This week while I was in Texas, Jesse decided to make some dinner.
The plan was for a sausage and pasta medly. He threw some water on the oven, defrosted some sausage, and started cutting up some peppers and onions to put into the mix.
He grabbed a yellow and red pepper, as well as some home grown peppers that Thomas had brought from his folk’s place. In retrospect, we realize that one of these may have been the infamous habanero pepper. The habanero is known for its ability to kill or knock out anyone under 9 years of age who lives north of the Mason Dixon line.
Jesse cut those peppers and added them to the sauce and sausage that was now simmering on the range. It wasn’t long before the scent of fire touched his unexpecting face. He didn’t describe it as being overly noxious, but he recognized the burn and knew to dilute his dinner with additional sauce.
The dinner was cooked, and the dinner was ate, and the dinner was delicious.
After dinner, Jesse washed his hands. But it wasn’t long before a rogue finger found its way to Jesse’s face. He rubbed his eye. And Pain exploded.
Think Hindenburg, except instead of a zepplin, Jesse’s face.
First his face turned red. Then it started to swell. He ran to the bathroom and soaked his face in water… to no avail. He had to wait it out.
and wait he did. Finally around 11:00pm, his face had calmed down to comfortable levels and he was ready for bed. But before bed, he had to use the bathroom.
One would think that after washing his hands so many times his hands would be free from the hot pepper’s oils of pain. One would think that after so many hours surely the burning agent would be gone.
Sadly no. After using the bathroom, Jesse experienced 3 or so more hours of very personal pain.