He took one slice on a fork, delicately put it on his tongue, slowly began chewing, swallowed it...and then the steam started coming out of his ears. He turned a bit red. He got up. He drank water. A lot of water.
Me: "You may want to get some milk, or maybe eat some tortilla chips, dude."
Little guy, upon looking in the fridge: "I'm gonna eat some whip cream!"
Glug, glug, glug....
Little guy: "I don't like jalepeños."
It's a funny thing. When I was pregnant with my big guy, I could not get enough spicy foods. And when he was little he'd eat salsa like it was chicken noodle soup. Seriously. By the bowl, people. When I was pregnant with my little guy I could not tolerate spicy foods at all...which is so not me. My little fetuses were serious dietary dictators who had already determined what they liked and didn't like.
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