Hot Sauce


Last night I went to dinner with my kids.
My 13 year old, Mike, ordered fajitas and wanted to try the spicy sauce that comes with them, called “El Diablo” sauce.
I told him he might want to try it on the side in case he didn’t like it. He was smart and listened (make a note of that on your calendar).
He liked it, but it was rather spicy for him, so he was glad he didn’t have it spread all over the fajita meat.
Later when the meat was gone he still had a tortilla and some sauce. I told him I would give him a dollar if he would eat the rest of the sauce. His brother said he would, too.
Mike was all ready to do this, and then I said “WAIT! I revoke my dollar because I’m afraid you’ll get sick and I don’t want you throwing up in my car.”
I kept discouraging it. I told him I wouldn’t clean up his puke, and he would owe me money if he did indeed throw up.
I could see he had every intention of going through with the dare.
So, I told him I’d give him a dollar if he didn’t throw up.
He poured the rest of the sauce on his remaining tortilla and gobbled it down. Then he immediately reached for my water and drank all of it.
I still owe him a dollar.
*UPDATE… I paid him, people. Get off my back!

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