Chili Bomb

Last night I made chili for the first time.

It was delicious and tasty and spicy, with meat and beans and peppers. Oh, my. I had two giant bowls of it and loved every spoonful that I shoved into my mouth. The lovely HoBiscuit even made cornbread so we would have the proper side dish for the chili. And let me tell you, HoBiscuit makes some nice cornbread. And, do you know what else goes really well with chili?

Cheese and sour cream.

Oh, the bliss that is spicy chili covered in shredded cheese and sour cream! All that spice! All that sour cream and cheese! They go so well together that I couldn’t stop myself from piling on spoonful after spoonful of sour cream on my chili, and at least a fistful of shredded cheese on top of each… bowl…

Hey, there’s something I’m supposed to remember about me and cheese…

Wait, sour cream too.

…

I don’t recall…

Huh, something about milk products, I think. Huh, me and milk. Milk and me. Milk, milk, milk. Yeah, it’s coming in clearer now. Didn’t I find out something about me and milk about three months ago? Something important? I think I discovered that I wasn’t going to tolerate something anymore. Not tolerate something because it upset me? Huh? what’s that? You think I might be lactose intolerant? And that means, what? No! So, you’re saying that I shouldn’t have eaten all that cheese? What about the sour cream? Really? Made with milk, you say? No, no. I think I get it now. This knowledge would certainly help explain the screaming, small explosions and smell of burning hair in the bathroom this morning.

I wish I could sit down.