After the first few houses of trick-or-treating on Halloween, Tiern exclaimed: “I want to go to every house in the whole World!” “Oh no,” I thought. “This might be a long night.”
But surprisingly, it wasn’t.
Kids can sometimes be quite practical.
In a short period, the kid’s baskets heaped with candy. Carrying these heavy baskets became a chore, and their arms must have grown tired. Mama, noticing signs of exhaustion, suggested: “Shall we go home?” Tiern squealed out with joy, “Goodie! Let’s go home and see what’s in our baskets.”
When we got home, the kids put their baskets on top of the table, and we marveled at the bounty. We visited around 15 houses, but sizing-up the amount of candy, it looked like we had been to over fifty. We allowed the kids to pick out two pieces from the trove.
Little Miss scanned her basket, and one particular gem caught her eye. It was a shiny atomic fireball. Miss picked up the fireball and said, “This one, please!” I informed her, “That one is too spicy for you.” “Oh,” she said. I successfully distracted her with sweeter candies.
I don’t think fireballs are as hot as spicy chiles, but I know Miss, and fireballs are not down her alley.
The selection dwindled as the days went by; the highly prized candies were eaten first, and the less desirable candies remained. During each treat time, Miss kept asking me for the fireball, and I kept reminding her that it was too spicy.
Then all that was left were some chocolates and the fireball. At this point, Miss went for the gusto: “I really like spicy things, Dadoo!” she interjected. “Are you sure, Miss?…because this one is really…really spicy.” She answered, “I Really…Really…Really like spicy things!” (blinking her eyes and smiling sweetly). So I gave in. But I warned her, “If it get’s too hot, spit it out. Ok?” “Yes, Dadoo.” I opened the fireball wrapper, and she popped it into her mouth. She had a big smile on her face as she sucked on the prize. She didn’t seem to mind it, so I went into the kitchen to make supper.
About five minutes later, Little Miss walked nonchalantly into the kitchen with nothing in her mouth. Recognizing that five minutes would be too short to finish a fireball, I asked her: “What happened to the fireball?” “It was a little too spicy,” she said. “That’s ok, Miss. Where did it go?” She shrugged her shoulders.
Suddenly Tiern ran into the kitchen screeching, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
He had the fireball in his mouth.
“Spicy, huh?…” Tiern shook his head yes.
“Why don’t you spit it out?”
Tiern shrugged his shoulders, and clenched the fireball between his teeth.
Too spicy to be tasty, too good to spit out.