Red Hot Chili Peppers

We have this amazing dinner we make with pork roast, tomatillos, green apples and peppers. Larry got it from a magazine and he's perfected it over time. It's become our signature dish. In fact, when you come over for dinner next time, we're bound to serve it to you.

One of Corey's moms knows we love peppers. Her dad has this amazing garden, so last time she came over, she brought a large variety of chili peppers; red, green and orange. Some big, some small. They looked awesome.

Yesterday afternoon, we began preparing the dish. Larry had browned the pork and was cutting the apples. I had volunteered to cut the peppers. After cutting about nine or so, I asked, "Hey, do we know how hot these are? I mean, are some hotter than others?" Larry had no idea, so he suggested I cut one and just touch it to my tongue. I grabbed a small red one and did just that.

After a few seconds, I felt the slightest tingle, like the tiniest portion of wasabi. It tickled and felt cool. "This has got a nice zing to it," I said. "Try a little on your tongue." He did.

At that point, my zing became a little hotter. I sipped my water as Larry agreed that it was a pretty spicy pepper. He began to drink as I began to winch in the slighest pain. "My lips are really hurting," I said. And with that, the pain began.

The pain became a burning sensation like no other. At first, I grabbed the Elmo ice pack in the freezer, but it didn't cover my mouth very well. A wet towel filled with ice cubes finally did the trick, but not before tears were streaming down my eyes. The pain was bigger... and so were my lips.

It was clear I was having an allergic reaction to the peppers for I had become Barbara Hershey.

It felt as though I had gone bobbing for apples in boiling oil. The burning on my lips and cheeks intensified. We knew there was only one place to turn for help: Google.

After several searches, a common recommendation was dairy products. We ran downstairs. Larry reached into the fridge for assistance.

Soy milk. "Umm, I think we're looking for more cow-oriented items," I muffled through the dripping towel. He continued looking.

"We have cream cheese," he offered, "but it's chive and onion flavored so that may be pretty gross." He turned back into the fridge again.

"How about goat cheese?" I rolled my eyes in frustration. He looked back in sympathy. "Babe, I can't help it. We're gay. We don't own basic dairy products."

I spit back into the towel in utter hysterics.

After an hour, my lips calmed down. The redness subsided and the pain went away. We put the pork dinner, minus the peppers, on hold for the night and just ate leftover lasagna.

After dinner, I began washing the dishes. As I dried my hands, they began to itch and burn. In my reading about chili peppers, I remembered reading about wearing gloves to prevent the oils from getting into your skins and burning them...much like was happening now.

Back to Google to discover that baby powder helps ease the burning. However, I was not to have contact with any other skin to avoid painful burning. I immediately got frustrated.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I really have to pee."