I have a very spicy 4 year old. And oh, is she completely saucy. Just dip a chip in her, and you’ll be eatin’ for days.
She recently started preschool.
Yeah. She’s cute. It comes with the age, we’ll move on before you get distracted.
This 4 year old kid, is also a bit of a drama queen. When she plays dolls, and one of the baby dolls starts to cry, my heart literally stops as I climb the stairs 3 at a time running to save her from whatever ails her. And it never fails. Nothing is wrong. It’s just the doll (under the guise of Soledad’s voice) crying.
And when she tells a story, it’s always a hum dinger. Full, with a thick plot, some crazy twist you’d never anticipate, and an ending that will have you in tears. Was the story true? She’ll never tell. So you’re left to ponder the alternative.
Me: Soli, how was your first day of school?
Soledad: Okay, I guess.
Me: Just okay? Did you do anything fun? Do you like your teacher? What was the neatest thing you did?
She looks at me with a wry smile, lips pursed, but hinting at the promise of some very interesting tidbits.
Me: Out with it, Missy. What happened?
Soledad: Well, . . . .
She begins to tell a horrifying tale of her first day in preschool. The scene is set with a classroom burgeoning with preschoolers, all excited and nervous about their first day of school. The day begins as anticipated, with stations, followed by a morning snack. But then. . . .
Something goes desperately wrong. One of the children, new to the school (she couldn’t recall his name) falls out, smack dab in the middle of the carpet, flailing and yelling at the top of his lungs. The teacher tells him “Stop!” but he won’t. He just continues to contort his body, until he just lies still, motionless. “It’s okay, though Mommy, ” she admits. “He’s only playing pretend, nothings really wrong.”
“So what did you do?” I nudge her, wondering if she was frightened by this child’s behavior.
“Well, I uhhhh. . . .well because he was playing dead. . .I uhhh. . .stomped on him REAL HARD about ten times, since he said he was dead anyway.”
“You what?” I say, in a small whisper, wondering why the police aren’t on my doorsteps as we speak. “Soli, you’re kidding, right? You know you’re never supposed to hit, kick, slap, or touch your friends in a harmful way? Right? RIGHT?????” I start to turn hysterical. “Oh my gosh, your poor teacher. What did she do?” I say as tears trickle down my face.
“Well, of course, I went to the place where REALLY, REALLY, SUPER, DUPER, bad kids go. The Directors Office, where there is a naughty chair, and they tell you how baaaaddddd you are.”
I’m faint. Embarrassed. Confused. Scared. But thankfully, I have enough of my facilities to call her father. This behavior must come from his side of the family. He’ll know what to do.
I dial the phone, keeping one eye on her as she chomps on the last bit of her sandwich, just in case she decides to drop kick me without any notice.
“Hello, ” Warwick says as he answers the phone.
I breathlessly recount the days events to him, praying that he’ll know what to do. And just as I’m summing it up, “and I don’t know why her teacher didn’t say anything, or why there wasn’t anything in the backpack, or why they didn’t call me to come pick her up, or why . . . or why SHE IS LAUGHING RIGHT NOW. SOLEDAD!!!!!! ARE YOU TELLING THE TRUTH? Cause if you are, you are in big, big, big, trouble. They are going to kick you out of school FOREVER!!!! And then you’ll be here with me for the rest of your life, and I WILL NOT BE HAPPY.”
Her laugh, turns into a full out chortle, as she gasps, “It’s not true! I didn’t really do that!”
I hang up the phone, and I think. Not funny. Not funny at all. This definitely comes from Warwick’s side of the family.
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Spiciness can be quite nice, under the right circumstances. Like when you have a lightly salted, crunchy, thin tortilla chip in one hand, and a bowl of this salsa in the other.
I must warn you though, and I don’t say this lightly, it might very well be the BEST SALSA you’ve ever had. In your entire life. I’m not joking.
So I’m sorry. Sorry that this is so cheap to make. Sorry that this is soooooo easy to make. Sorry that you’ll want to make it everyday, and may no longer have time to do anything but make this salsa.
But you better go to work, or you’ll run out of money, and then you won’t be able to make this salsa. And then what will you do?
Don’t come crying at my doorstep. Cause I warned you. This can be addictive.
|This jar was full 5 minutes ago.|
The Best Darn Salsa You’ve Ever Had
28 oz. canned canned crushed tomatoes (you can use whole tomatoes as well)
14 oz. canned diced tomatoes, drained (Rotel Canned Tomatoes work well too)
1/2 small red onion (about 1/2 cup chopped)
1 Jalapeno, sliced with most of the seeds removed (leave ’em in if you like it hot!)
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. Garlic Powder
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 rounded tsp. Ground Cumin
Handful of Cilantro (about 1/2 of cup packed)
The juice of 2 limes ( about 1/4 cup )
1. Stick it in a blender, and blend. Dip a tortilla in it, and eat.