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Dec. 6th, 2003 05:26 amKyle, one of the cool sixth graders, has been stealing Robin’s lunch in the schoolyard.
At first Robin found this flattering. Then annoying. A formal complaint through the principal’s office accomplished nothing.
"When the law avails you no satisfactory resolution, it’s time to take the matter into your own hands," I told Robin.
Max made an exasperated face. "What are you talking about, Mom? Columbine at the ISM?"
"Don’t be silly," I said. "Any revenge that involves massive amounts of publicity and clean-up is self-defeating. I’m talking hot sauce."
So yesterday Robin and I spent the early part of the morning experimenting. I’d make him two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He might have to eat one before Kyle rose to the bait. How much Marie Sharp’s Fiery Hot could he stand?
It turns out that Marie Sharp’s Fiery Hot in raspberry jam is rather tasty and that apparently Robin has inherited my tolerance for capsicum. We doctored the PB-and-J’s with approximately fifteen drops apiece. Robin left for school with a smile plastered across his face.
Same smile that he used three hours later as he ate one of the sandwiches. Ostentatiously licked the excess jelly from his fingers. Yum!
"Gimme that," said Kyle, snatching for the other sandwich.
"I don’t think you’ll like it," said truthful Robin.
"I said gimme," said Kyle, pushing Robin out of the way.
Now. One of the more useful properties of habanero is that it takes a few seconds to come on. It’s a staged afterglow, you might say. Thus it took a full minute and a half after gobbling the sandwich for Kyle to start clutching his throat and shrieking. "What’s in those sandwiches?"
"Just jelly," said Robin. "You might want to steal someone’s milk. That’ll help."
But Kyle was never going to steal anybody’s lunch in the schoolyard ever again. And this a happy ending, no? First, because when a fourth grader takes a sixth grader down, he’s the coolest fourth grader in the universe, and second because I have no doubt that we deterred Kyle forever from a life of white crime. I’m pretty sure Sam Waksal started out as a schoolyard bully.
At first Robin found this flattering. Then annoying. A formal complaint through the principal’s office accomplished nothing.
"When the law avails you no satisfactory resolution, it’s time to take the matter into your own hands," I told Robin.
Max made an exasperated face. "What are you talking about, Mom? Columbine at the ISM?"
"Don’t be silly," I said. "Any revenge that involves massive amounts of publicity and clean-up is self-defeating. I’m talking hot sauce."
So yesterday Robin and I spent the early part of the morning experimenting. I’d make him two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He might have to eat one before Kyle rose to the bait. How much Marie Sharp’s Fiery Hot could he stand?
It turns out that Marie Sharp’s Fiery Hot in raspberry jam is rather tasty and that apparently Robin has inherited my tolerance for capsicum. We doctored the PB-and-J’s with approximately fifteen drops apiece. Robin left for school with a smile plastered across his face.
Same smile that he used three hours later as he ate one of the sandwiches. Ostentatiously licked the excess jelly from his fingers. Yum!
"Gimme that," said Kyle, snatching for the other sandwich.
"I don’t think you’ll like it," said truthful Robin.
"I said gimme," said Kyle, pushing Robin out of the way.
Now. One of the more useful properties of habanero is that it takes a few seconds to come on. It’s a staged afterglow, you might say. Thus it took a full minute and a half after gobbling the sandwich for Kyle to start clutching his throat and shrieking. "What’s in those sandwiches?"
"Just jelly," said Robin. "You might want to steal someone’s milk. That’ll help."
But Kyle was never going to steal anybody’s lunch in the schoolyard ever again. And this a happy ending, no? First, because when a fourth grader takes a sixth grader down, he’s the coolest fourth grader in the universe, and second because I have no doubt that we deterred Kyle forever from a life of white crime. I’m pretty sure Sam Waksal started out as a schoolyard bully.
