thai spice

There are some weeks in which we live on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And microwave burritos. And corn dogs. And more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And chocolate chips. And mac n' cheese. And ice cream. And more chocolate chips. And maybe an apple. Or two. 

By the end of said weeks, David and I ravage the grocery store. And it is marvelous. Shopping on an empty stomach is liberating. Rotisserie chicken? Sure! Pudding? Why not! Sushi sample? Why, thank you very much. And why don't we pick up some donuts on the way out to wash down that fishy taste? Yes, please!

And then I get it in my head to try out a new recipe to provide some variety to our lackluster menus. Not just any recipe. A Thai recipe---as in one of those mock-Thai creations that uses jalapeño peppers to kick up the spice a few notches rather than using authentic Thai spice.

Because David's side of the family has been on a Thai food kick for the last bit of forever, I decided I would score some wifely awesome points and make David soup. As in this soup. That's right---Thai soup with jalapeño peppers.

Having never worked with jalapeño peppers before, I briefly googled instructions on how to chop them up. Upon reading the warning to use gloves because of the potent nature of the peppers' oils and upon realizing that we don't own gloves proper for kitchen use, I had a brilliant idea. An idea so wonderful that I hardly could keep it from myself. So I thought, Self, why don't we have David cut up the peppers?

It seemed perfect. David doesn't have contacts and really has no reason whatsoever to touch his eyes, so he could take one for the team so that I would not burn out my tear ducts. Yes, Self, we really are brilliant.

Without telling David the reasoning behind my plan, I asked him to cut up the pepper. I started to feel a tad bit ashamed when he popped a piece in his mouth to determine its spiciness. But then I laughed it off---after all, I warned him it would be spicy. I just didn't tell him exactly how spicy was spicy . . .

After hollering for a few minutes and sticking his face under running water for a few minutes more (he somehow managed to get jalapeño oil all around his lips), David seemed to be fine. So we continued on our merry soupy way.

And then David picked his nose.

What happened next was a terrible thing to behold. According to David, the fires of hell ignited in his nasal cavities, a burning so great and terrible that his nose hairs were decimated as if they had been doused in Agent Orange.

Of course, such an event would bring tears to the eyes of any fallen soldier, so David touched those, too. With his face dripping in near-oedipal pain, I prohibited David from gouging his eyes out, and instead watched helplessly on as his face disappeared into the murky kitchen sink. It was truly a baptism by fire.

By this time, Self and I were tempted to sit in the corner with our tails between our legs. I eventually told David why I had him cut up the peppers, and he eventually forgave me. Yet every now and again, he looks over as he sniffles---it will be a long time before the burn scar in his nose will tolerate mucus runoffs during the rainy season.

And it will be even longer before we eat (let alone touch) jalapeño peppers again.

The end.