Peppered With Inconsideration

, , , , , , | Related | June 5, 2018

(I’m intolerant to peppers, onions, and things like them. If I eat them, or things made with their juices, I will spend hours in agony. As such, I don’t go to Mexican places. My mother knows this.)

Mother: “I don’t want to cook, so let’s just go out to eat.”

Brother: “[Mexican Chicken Place]!”

Me: “No! I don’t want to end up eating rice again!”

Mother: “Nonsense! There are lots of things you can eat!”

(She pulls into the drive-thru and orders for us. She gets me corn and mashed potatoes.)

Me: *opens the box* “They put peppers in everything. I can’t eat this.”

Mother: “Stop being so difficult! Just eat your food.”

(I try to scrape the peppers off, but they really are on everything. It’s clear they were fresh, so their juices definitely got everywhere. I spend the next two days in my room and on the toilet.)

Mother: “Come out already! You’re so ridiculous! Stop being so antisocial!”

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