Sleevie's exorbitant finishing school bill was something that I thought was worth the money. He'd learned to communicate his feelings with words instead of grumbles and burps, he'd stopped smoking cigarettes and hanging out with Addie and those other loose girls, and he even learned the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork and now carries around the appropriate one at the appropriate time. We were getting along swimmingly! Things were so quiet around here that I actually had to peek into his bedroom and make sure that he was still home. So much for that.
Now its seems that he's regressed, so I'm in the process of putting a stop payment on the last tuition check. Ugh, he was doing so well. At school they worked on his xenophobia ( his new best friend is caublasianese) and for a while I could indulge my tastebuds with Ethiopian, Indian, Mexican, all of the good spicy stuff. Now he's back to his cantankerous self and puts up a fuss anytime something that is remotely spicy crosses my lips. I'm back to barring bbq sauce, sidelining samosas, and letting go of lega tibs. For lack of a better word, Sleevie just feels icky when I have spicy food.
While in West Texas for my Aunt's funeral, I bought a few dozen frozen tamales home for my dad. The other day, he popped them into the microwave for lunch and I had one bite and that was more than enough for me to back off. I hope that it gets better but here are tons of incredible foods that I can eat without spice though.