Jalapeno of Evil

      Our kitchen was small but still pretty and very clean. Decorating it with sunflower curtains from the Home Interior catalog she loved so much, my mom made that small room her own little space. The dining table and chairs were a dark green color that went hand in hand with the pale sage green paint on the walls. The mahogany cabinets had a large variety of spices and as any other Mexican household, we had different types of peppers and hot sauces. I don’t like spicy food or even the taste of pepper. “Aren’t you Mexa?” my dad would say. I still hear that today. “How do you even survive?” “You don’t like Hot Cheetos? What?” “Ay”
One lovely summer evening, we hosted one of those parties for my parent’s friends who only came for the mouthwatering, not to mention free, food. None of them had children yet, or at least they didn’t want to deal with them at social events so my brother and I sat on the green chairs lonely and bored, with no other friends. I was five years old and he was eight. I truly believe my brother has hated me since the day of my birth, but I only had him as a sibling so I spent all my time with him, even if he made me do stupid stuff.
     “ I dare you to eat a whole jalapeno in one bite” he said out of nowhere. It took a little time for my young brain to process what he had said, and when I looked at him he had the pepper in front of my face, holding it with his little evil hand.. He had the evilest expression on his evil face of evil I had ever seen. I squinted. “If you don’t do it, I’ll leave you alone with all these old people” he threatened.
      To bite, or not to bite? What would Spongebob do? I squinted again. After considering most of the possibilities of each outcome in the span of 23.5 seconds, I decided I couldn’t stay there all by myself hearing all the “Ay mija”s so I decided to go for it. I took the jalapeno and bit it. At first it didn’t feel that bad, but then I started chewing and my mouth caught on fire. I ran to the bathroom to spit it out but the feeling was still there. It was horrible. I experienced my own version of hell, while my brother told my pregnant mother about the situation, and she came to me waddling like a penguin holding a glass of milk. She made me drink the milk and said “You should’ve done it for at least $10” which I personally believe was irrelevant to everything.
      After that, I started to feel better, but my eyes were watering and my tongue went numb. My brother was laughing the whole time, so ever since that moment, I appreciate being alone most of the time. Spending time with my evil brother only brought tears to my ridiculously small, sensitive eyes, and I am pretty sure all the unnecessary crying resulted in mediocre eyesight for life.