So I wasn't going to share this story, but then my wife convinced me I should, and right now it's almost 1 am and I am still at work, just waiting for pictures to download, and I don't really see how it's all that bad of a story (probably because I am so tired right now).
So this story takes place about three weeks ago. We had been invited to go over to our neighbor's house to watch the BYU/Virginia game and have a little football party. The kids were excited, I was excited, I mean even Kara was feeling pretty good and not nauscious (that's not how you spell it but it's late and I can't figure out spell check right now).
For those of you unfamiliar with my TV viewing habits, I typically don't watch a ton of it. I will enjoy the occasional series, and some Phineas and Ferb if time permits (only when there is no Shawn the Sheep) but what I really enjoy is some good college football. To me it's literally the most wonderful time of the year. I think I like it better than Christmas. If I were a hunter, I would probably like it even more, if I could watch football while hunting.
So we go to our friend's house and here is where I do something stupid. We have brought snacks, and there are snacks already there, and snacks still being prepared. I see our friend's oldest son with a bowl of peppers (which I thought were just regular Bell peppers) sitting in front of the garbage can just shelling them out, getting rid of all the seeds and the stuff in the middle. So I jump in and start helping.
Now my wife has been to culinary school, and knows a lot about food and how to prepare it.
I blame this one partially on her.
We weren't wearing gloves, and they weren't Bell peppers. They were the other kind, the HOT kind. The ones that if you handle them too much, you will get blisters on your hands. Our son's friend had shelled about 20, I had done about five. My hands were soon on fire.
That's OK, I can deal with it, there's football to watch, I'm OK with a little heat.
It's still burning, and getting worse. I'm trying to relax, so I grab a soda and pop open the can, and drink. Did you know that stuff on peppers can travel to WHATEVER YOU TOUCH. No sooner do I lift the Dr Pepper (yes very appropriate I know) then my lips start to burn as well.
Our neighbors kid is in serious pain now, and me being a stupid immature guy, make fun of him. Of course this was before my hands and mouth started burning, so I think God was punishing me a little bit.
I grab some milk, drink it, and kind of sit there with my mouth getting coated with the sweet coolness, but no sooner do I remove the milk that my mouth burns again, along with my hands. I need to thoroughly wash them. So I head to the bathroom, wash my hands, and then (Here's where idiocy crescendos) I use the bathroom.
I should have learned my lesson with the soda can. That stuff on peppers can travel to WHATEVER YOU TOUCH. I'm an idiot, and now I think I'm getting a blister. I head out of the bathroom just as the heat hits my nether regions. I think to myself "I'm cool, it's just some quick contact, it should be OK." I was OK for about two minutes before I headed over to where Kara was sitting and whispered (my whisper is more like a regular person's talking voice) "We need to go home....like NOW."
She has no idea what is going on (well a little bit but she has no idea about where it's burning now) but I bolt for the door and head home while she gathers the kids. I jump in the shower and out of habit instantly rub my face. IDIOT! What do I do now? My hands burn, my eyes burn, my junk burns, and any heat in the shower felt like I was being prodded with a red hot poker. COLD, I NEEDED COLD. I started to fill the bathtub. Kara mentioned something about Vinegar helping. I'm desperate so I grab some and "apply" it. Should have thought that one through too. Vinegar is an acid, and it just intensifies the sensation.
Also at this point the smell of the Vinegar forces Kara to retreat to the bedroom, so I am all by myself to deal with this "problem". I eventually run enough cool water over my "areas" to make me functional. I come out of the bathroom and there is Kara on the bed doing something on the computer. I then explain what happened and she tells me that she was wondering why we weren't wearing gloves while handling the peppers.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"
"Well I didn't want to be rude."
"Please, be rude next time, I will forgive you."
I get dressed, and then head back over to the neighbors to finish watching the game (after the rain delay) and to break the news to their son that he shouldn't pee for at least a week.
I'm an IDIOT!
