This morning, I made some scrambled eggs for my son. I plopped them down on the table in front of him and sat down.
"Mama," he said. "Could you please get me some salt, pepper, and hot sauce?"
"Sure, Bubba." I brought them out and watched as he poured a lot of hot sauce on the eggs. I didn't say anything.
He took a bite. Let me just say, the faces and sounds he made resembled something like a constipated gorilla. He fanned his open mouth. "Milk!" he gasped.
I chuckled and brought him some milk.
He gulped it down and put out the fire.
And then do you know what he did? He added more pepper to the eggs!
"Dude," I said. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea. Pepper is kind of spicy. Why don't you just scrape off the hot sauce?"
He shook his head. "Pepper will neutralize the hot sauce."
"Whatever you say, Bubba." I watched him take another bite.
Tears nearly came out of his eyes as the pepper and hot sauce lit his mouth on fire.
He gulped down more milk and looked at me sheepishly. "Maybe you were right, Mama."
Uh huh. Mamas are always right!