I promised myself…

I wouldn’t write about this, but as I’m sitting at this blank screen it’s the ONLY thing that keeps playing over and over and over in my head.  And honestly, it’s like I’m being told to talk about it.  So who am I to argue with the little voices in my head?

So I’m going to warn you.  If you’re sensitive, easily offended, a family member that might get easily grossed out or anyone else for that matter, please stop reading.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect any of the below knowledge.  Instead I suggest you go watch this video of this adorably surprised kitten that has garnered 9 million views on YouTube.

Otherwise, read on.

So.

Yesterday Jason decided he was going to make some of Ree’s, from the Pioneer Woman website, jalapeno poppers.  (I won’t mention how long I sat here thinking about whether I should link to that or not because it might track back to me, and then — and THEN I might retain a bit of infamy I’m not quite ready to enjoy.)

So he made them.  They were delicious.  But he didn’t use gloves when he chopped up the jalapenos.  Even though I told him he should.   But he usually doesn’t, which makes him a cotton-headed ninny muggins.  But we all knew that, right?

To set up this story I should say that shortly after he made them I asked him to come feel my cheek because I was bitterly cold, and I wanted to share with him JUST how cold I was.  Now, I do this constantly, all that whining and crying and wailing about how cold it is.  And when my skin reaches a certain temperature I FORCE him to touch it just so he knows that I’m no longer whining but I have indeed started the process of turning into an iceberg (as Kalina calls it).  Critical cold hysterics really.

So after he touched my cheek I noticed a faint burning for a couple of hours afterwards.  He, of course, realized his folly though didn’t say much because it was, yet again, another I-told-you-so moment in our lives.  And I didn’t say I told you so, but he knew.  Dude, he knew.

Later in the day we were out and about at Walgreens picking up some of my favorite lip balmwhen he absentmindedly scratched his eye.  And ooooh, the burn.  It didn’t burn for long, but he had thought he had managed to get ALL the oils off somehow.  Apparently he did not.

Following that incident there was no more reminders of earlier in the day, and the jalapeno was completely forgotten for hours and hours and hours.

We went to my mom’s and played Apples to Apples (he won).  We came home and tucked the kids in bed.  And by now it was late, so we retired to our room to watch some TV for an hour or so.

Around midnight, we realized, hey, look at the time!  It’s business time.  It was late and I was tired, so I almost — ALMOST gave a raincheck and asked to reschedule the business time.   And let’s leave the particulars at that.

So yes, business time.  A few minutes go by and things are happening.  And as things happen suddenly I start experience a slow burn.  And not a good slow burn.  Definitely the bad kind.  Oh, most definitely the bad kind.

So in my business time haze it dawns on me…

Holy Mylanta!!!

THE JALAPENOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSS…

And as I get my wits about me I slap at his hand and yell stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Jalapenos!  Burn!  Oh, the burn!

Jason is shocked silent for a moment.  Kind of, like, what?  The burn?  Huh?

And he watches my face as I explain in further detail what’s happening and that, oh, my, gosh, the burn just gets hotter as time goes on.

And he’s still just staring at me blankly until it dawns on him fully what has occorred and the horror registers across his face in a panic!  And you can see in his head he’s thinking, ”Oh, my, gosh, the burn!”

So I tell him, “GO TO GOOGLE!  See what we need to do!!!”

And he mentions something about milk taking the burn away when you eat something too hot, but all I can think of is do I REALLY have to go bathe my business in milk?  That doesn’t seem very sanitary!

As I consider the potential outcomes to this situation, I realize there’s silence from the other room as he furiously peruses Google.

I laid on the bed with my own version of burning loins asked anxiously, “ANYTHING?!” 

“Nothing so far!!!  Still looking!”

So I start shouting out options of words he can use that might give him the right answer.  And I sense the hesitation in his voice as we realize at the same time just what sort of answers he might get if he starts using those words together.  It might open up a window into other people’s lives that we have absolutely zero interest in knowing about.

And amazingly enough, the burn just keeps getting hotter and hotter and hotter.

And I kind of can’t help laughing because I’m visualizing what we might look like if an outsider was looking in.  Jason sitting naked at the computer Googling furiously, while I’m sprawled the bed in my birthday suit shouting out anatomically correct words and waxing poetic about my burning nether regions.

Fortunately, before the answer was to be had, the burn began to subside.  I called out to Jason and he came back in, forlorn, because, after all, we had had the Starbucks incident (AND I GAINED A POUND, by the way!  CURSE YOU, STARBUCKS!) just earlier in the evening.  And then we had the jalapeno incident.  And frankly, we were kind of afraid of what might happen if we actually stayed awake and tried to make the day last any longer.  It could only go downhill from there.  And we were, frankly, afraid of what downhill actually might mean!

So let this be a lesson to you all.  Gloves on for your cheeks, your eyes and your own [wink, wink] safety!