Anything named ‘warhead’ can’t be good. I’ve tried to explain my stance on this subject many times over the years to our son.
In case you’re not familiar with what a warhead is, let me explain. It’s the most intensely sour, hard candy in the would. It’s the Habanero of sour.
This benign looking little round candy entered into our lives years ago when Manny’s oldest cousin challenged him to eat one. Manny was little then and the candy only had time to touch his tongue before his reflexes took over and he spit it out. Ever since then he’s tried every year our so to keep one in his mouth until the sour is replaced by the next layer, which happens to be sweet. I guess it’s some small reward for enduring the pain involved with eating the candy in the first place.
Up until now he’s been unsuccessful in his quest to make it to the next layer.
He came home from school yesterday with yet another warhead, ready to try again, and me being me, I grabbed my camara.
Doesn’t look like much, does it?
So far, so good.
Total concentration mixed with what I perceived as, disbelief that he was doing to this himself once again.
Then it happens! His eyes slammed shut to protect themselves.
His jaw muscle cramped into a ball.
I think he would have cried if his eyes could have cooperated.
And then it was over.
He finally made it to the sweet layer.
As he sat there in triumph, I looked across the room at his little sister, she rolled her eyes very unimpressed with the proceedings, and all she said was “men.”
My sentiments exactly Little Bit.
See ya tomorrow!
the wanna be country girl – Caroline