The baby ate a slice of jalapeño off of the floor last week. I saw him do it, but thought it was a blueberry, so I let him. (Disturbing subtexts of this post that I will not be touching on: 1. There are both jalapeños and blueberries available on my kitchen floor. 2. I do not stop my baby from eating what he finds on said floor.)
Hot Fireshot (REALLY Hot Fireshot in this case) just barely put the jalapeño slice into his mouth before spitting it out and screaming holy hell. Whatever reaction I might have imagined that a baby would have upon tasting a jalapeño was nothing compared to the reaction he actually had. I gave him water and ice bits, then I gave him a plum to suck on and I nursed him. I desperately ripped off his pajamas to see if there was a rash, and considered calling 911 because I was sure I read in the newspaper that a baby was badly hurt from eating a jalapeño. Then, suddenly, he stopped crying, grinned at me, threw his arms up in the air and said, “Touchdown!”