I sometimes make dinner so spicy my sons really don’t like it. No one goes for thirds or seconds.
It’s the only way to get a decent amount of leftovers. Then I bring it with me in a little plastic box to the barn.
Eating it on the way home while driving. Mouth burning from the spices. But hey, it’s real food and scores so much better than some dry corn tortilla with peanut butter. (Yes, I often eat this sad combo for lunch for various reasons.)
Despicable. I know. I’ll pay for this.
We’re all sinners.
Valiosa, no spicy food;