My ex used to bring home my most favorite snack. If I liked Lorna Doone cookies, he’d bring home boxes and boxes until I couldn’t take it anymore. He’d bring home a box the next week and they’d just sit there. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anymore. Not one.
I’ve reached that point with my latest snack. And I can only blame myself. Chester’s Flamin’ Hot Fries. Oh no, these are NOT your regular Hot Fries. These things are like little pieces of hell! But taste like Heaven. mmmmmm
I saw them at CVS last week, picked up 2 bags, turned around and picked up 1 more, you know…just in case I REALLY liked them. Apparently I did. I ate 2.5 of those bags. My daughter (lover of all things HOT), ate half of a bag. My mouth burned, my throat burned, my fingers were red and little crumbs of red fire were all over my clothes…but no…I couldn’t stop.
This week, I marched right into CVS and purchased 3 bags (off rip). No need in pretending I only needed 2. What if there was a monsoon and I couldn’t get back to CVS anytime soon??? Once at home, I didn’t bother with dinner. I made plates for the kids and figured I’d eat some Hot Fries FIRST, you know, before they went bad or something. First taste always sets your mouth on fire, but you drink a little something and you tough it out. I toughed it out. Skipped dinner. Ate a bowl of cereal. With milk. MILK PEOPLE! I do not get along with MILK.
So there I sat, with a belly full of flaming corn snacks and milk. MILK. I have this theory that milk curdles in my stomach. No other way to explain the nasty feeling I get when I drink it. Burning, curdling belly.
My daughter wanted some Hot Fries. I told her it was too late. I joked about it giving her nightmares. SPICY FOODS GIVE YOU NIGHTMARES AND HOT FLASHES!! I went to bed that night with a burning curdling belly…and…had nightmares.
I woke up multiple times feeling ill.
And guess what people? That did NOT stop me from having more today! But I just got sicker! So I’m done!! Dear Internets, I am DONE! I haven’t felt this ill since…since…since my dude let me drink orange juice. ORANGE JUICE! I’ll tell you what orange juice does to mean another time. It’s just as gross as the milk curdling thing.
So, I’m packing the last bags of Hot Fries away. Giving them to charity or something.
Oh, and I know the worst isn’t over. If it feels like fire going in…well…you know.