So here's the phone call I got at work last week: "Mommy, izzat you? I burned my tongue on a hot pepper!" followed by much hysterical screaming. Corey came on the phone and 'splained that Milo had been fooling around in the garden, which has some leftover hot chili peppers hanging around in it. Corey noticed that Milo was playing with a pepper and told Milo to go inside and wash his hands and not to touch his face or put his hands in his mouth, as the pepper juice would sting like crazy. Defiant person that he is, Milo looked right at Corey and stuck both hands in his mouth. Much screaming ensued. Corey gave Milo some milk, and an ice cube and ice cream, but Milo still felt that he would feel better by calling me. Little did he know that I would crack up laughing (because I am a horrible person that finds other people's self inflicted agony infinitely amusing, especially when they've been warned) and then proceed to gut busting hysterics when I heard Milo say in the background, while Corey was talking: "I need an ice pack for my lips!"
As soon as I got home from work that day, I said to Milo "So, what'd you think of that hot pepper?" The answer: "Not good. And I don't know why you think it's funny!"
