When Kids Try Hot Sauce
I first met Lloyd when we were working for a student newspaper in the early 90s. It was a simpler time. A young Bill Clinton was in the White House, Lady GaGa was still in her egg, and nobody’s phone was “smart.” Lloyd was a grad student in those days — one of those serious young men who threw out words like “hegemony” and “ontological” because he thought women liked that sort of thing.
Since then, the world has gotten more complex, and Lloyd has gotten simpler. I mean that in a good way. These days, he’s a writer and a dad.
Through the power of Twitter, we recently caught up, and he shared the following story.
* * *
Thanks, Leanne. I have no idea if you rewrote my introduction. But if you did, I can only assume you left in the words “Clooneyesque,” “Swiftian” and “sauerbraten” … so thanks for that.
Everybody parents differently. We each have our own philosophy. Mine is stolen from the pages of Calvin and Hobbes. Which is fitting because so is my six year-old son, Cameron.
The other day he asked me: “If you get re-married, will you change your name?” And I replied: “Yes. To ‘Gertrude.'”
And he said: “This is why the other kids think I’m weird, Dad.”
But I digress.
Here’s my philosophy:
Major Premise: “If children are here to test us, then it must be God himself who is doing the grading.”
Minor Premise: “If it is God who is doing the grading, we must remember that he has a sense of humour. (Otherwise he wouldn’t have given us the Toronto Maple Leafs, the state of New Jersey, or Michael Bolton now would he?).”
Conclusion: “Our purpose as parents … is to make God laugh.”
I think this gets us bonus points. It also unlocks really cool heavenly, eternal achievements like a +3 Electric Golden Harp of Shredding and +2 Heavenly Robes of Awesome.
So when my kid asked me the other day if he could try a drop of “Blair’s After Death Sauce,” I had a duty … nay … a HEAVENLY OBLIGATION to say “yes.”
Here’s what happened:
And here’s what Cameron wrote afterwards.
TRANSCRIPTION: Dear Diary, Do NOT try this at home! I put some After Death sauce on my tongue and it burnt in flame!
You can follow the further adventures of this lovable father and son duo on Twitter: @lloydrang
Posted on May 13, 2011, in Diaries and Journals and tagged Blair's After Death Sauce, Calvin and Hobbes, Chase McFadden, hot sauce, Leanne Shirtliffe, spicy food, Stuff Kids Write, Stuffkidswrite.com. Bookmark the permalink. 40 Comments.
I’m dying… And having flashbacks, to my high school friend trying a “death pepper” in our chinese food dipped in hot mustard.
Her tongue blistered. Ice cream was required.
Good idea, videotaping the event in case anyone were to say “what the hell were you thinking?”.
I think I like you, Lloyd.
Now off to Google “hegemony”.
“Her tongue blistered.” So many bad images on that one. Happy googling. Google, by the way, is my unpaid research assistant: works long hours, doesn’t complain much, but can be a bit ineffective.
First off, “I put some After Death sauce on my tongue and it burnt in flame!” would be a great name for a punk band album.
Second, Cameron is awesome. His response, both visually and in writing, is great stuff. It’s like he walked it off, like a blow to the shin.
Lloyd, I’m glad that you felt heavenly obligated to document this. Thanks for sharing.
I think “Some Species Eat Their Young” would be another great name for a punk band album.
I love so much about this.
First, the girly scream. Cameron’s pitch is excellent.
Second, I love how when he finishes the milk he does not hesitate to add water into his glass along with the leftover milk, thus making WILK, which everyone knows is delicious.
Third, I love the diary entry. Now Lloyd can remind his son of this experiment (forever) by dragging out the diary entry, scribbled in Cam’s own hand. Dad can substitute concepts when Cam comes nosing about other things he is interested in trying. Like alcohol or cigarettes. Or meth. Which Lloyd can honestly say is 1000 times worse than Blair’s After Death Sauce.
Great transitions, Renee.
WILK: It does a body good. And a burnt in flame tongue.
But I thought WILK meant “Woman I’d Like to Know.”
WILK. Add that one to our Twitter banter, after TWSS and SB.
When my oldest son was about Cameron’s age, we ate some jerk chicken at a local Jamaican restaurant. I thought for sure he wouldn’t like it because it is so hot. But after a few bites, he said, “Daddy, I love this. It makes my tummy feel all warm.” Now he’s 18 and goes through hot sauce like crazy!
I may have to order Vivian and William some of that just so I can have fun with the word “Jerk.”
ha, nice. my kids love hot sauce
This. Is gold.
Lloyd had me at Calvin and Hobbes.
Now I’m tempted to whip out the video camera when my 6yo persistently asks if that green stuff that comes with our sushi plate is hot.
Note: the 6yo watched this video with me, and not to be outdone, he dipped his apple slice into a wad of ketchup (no hot sauce in the immediate vicinity) and took a huge bite only to gag dramatically. And the Oscar goes to…
I would also like to commend Lloyd on his immaculate kitchen. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially if you tidied specifically for this video.
“I think I burned off all my tastebuds!” Oh, I died laughing. Cameron is AWESOME – what a trooper. When I acidentally ate some Dave’s Insanity sauce, I could do nothing but sit at the table and weep.
And dude, is your house always that clean?
I thought I was the only one who noticed the clean house. Hilarious.
I initially had to watch the video a second time, because the first I was mesmerized by the show home quality.
Ha! I’m also a stress-cleaner. The more stressed i am, the cleaner the place is. Which means if you’re at my place and you smell furniture polish … RUN.
We gave our daughter dog biscuits once, at her request. There weren’t any high-pitched screams, though there was quite a bit of hacking.
And my kitchen is never that clean. Even after the dogs lick the floors and table.
So maybe I need a dog?
Tax Credit #4 takes care of the floors in our house.
First off, thanks for all the love for my kiddo. He really is an awesome kid. Very creative and fun. I call him “2.0” because, while he’s a lot like me, he’s also a vast improvement on the original :-).
As for the cleanliness of my house: my girlfriend is, as we speak, looming over my shoulder and sighing: “Yes, he’s a clean freak.” My motto is “i make OCD work for ME!”
I’ve been known to break into people’s places just to clean up. You never know where i might strike next.
And, finally, i must say in all honest what an honour it is to write with Leanne again. She’s one of the funniest, wisest and most skilled writers i’ve ever met … and a great force for good on the web. Kudos to her on her blogs, her articles and her choice of friends.
In that case, I’ll be emailing you my address, the code to our security system, and when we’ll be out of town next. Is your passport current?
Um…could you stop in New Brunswick on your way to Jess’ house, Lloyd?
I’m too chicken to try hot sauce! Cameron rocks…
I also love his warning not to “try this at home.” It’s probably good that he wasn’t at school…
Bad puns r us: Maybe if you tried hot sauce on chicken…
Well, those are some darn nice words, now, aren’t they?
Now Lloyd, go get to work on your next assignment. 😉 Think cheese, my friend.
Thanks, Lloyd. Version “2.0” rocks.
You can break into my house to clean anytime. I’ll even leave the door unlocked. Or put extra locks on it, if you also like the challenge.
To further tie this in to Calvin and Hobbes, there’s a strip where Calvin wants to look cool by smoking. He asks his mom, who says yes.
He gags and chokes and ends with the line, “Trusting parents can be hazardous to your health.”
I enjoyed your post.
I have a feeling my kids will use that Calvin quotations as the epigraph of the tell-all memoir they write about me.
HA HA HA! We all loved that. We have some momentarily adventurous kiddos ourselves. It’s in the after moments that they realize mom and dad really know what they are talking about.
🙂 So true.
I think the funniest part of this is hearing dad’s concern towards the end…what wonderful chemistry between dad and son…
Thanks for pointing that out. There’s a cool connection between them, isn’t there?
That’s a great thing to say, JTE … thanks. I had the same thing with my dad. My son came into the world in an unusual way, by the way … so here’s this:
Wow, Lloyd, wow.
Poetry in the action. Poetry in the telling.
Wow. I sure missed something amazing in this when I was away! That’s hilarious. Great stuff.
that was lame.
Pingback: Stuff Kids Write: The Hot Sauce Edition | Ironic Mom
Pingback: Monkey Balls, Pirate’s Booty, Hot Sauce, and Elbow Licking « Some Species Eat Their Young
Pingback: How Our Kids Re-Write Us « Stuff Kids Write
Pingback: Stuipid Gardening « Stuff Kids Write
Pingback: When Sentences Make You Sad « Stuff Kids Write