Red Hot Chili Peppers

For some reason, I decided to grow chili peppers this year. I'm not really sure why. I never buy them in the market, and I have no recipe that calls for them. I avoid spicy foods on the rare occasion that we get to go out to eat. But one day, while strolling dreamy-eyed through one of my favorite nurseries, I saw the red hot chili peppers, and I just had to have one plant for my garden. I didn't really think it through beyond that.

Chili peppers are pretty easy plants to grow, at least in my climate. I planted my new seedling in a small pot which I placed in my side yard by the barbeque. This location usually proves to be the kiss of death for most plants. I rarely remember to water the side yard.

Regardless of their blatant neglect, my chili peppers seemed to thrive. One by one they turned fire-engine red, and the foliage of the plant dried and shriveled. It was time to pick my peppers.


Now, when I selected this pepper plant, the tag classified them as "mild." I can assure you they were not. I thought seeded and finely chopped raw chili peppers, in moderation, might make a nice addition to a corn, black bean, and cilantro salad. They were not. With one tiny bite of red hot chili pepper, our eyes watered, our noses ran, and the insides of our mouths seethed and burned. Oops. I guess I should have taste tested before serving these to guests!

So, if we weren't going to eat these things then (raw at least), what should Mommy do with them? Why, of course! I should give them to my 5 year old for a craft project. That makes perfect sense!

Since he did such a great job cutting off all the stems with the very sharp, pointy scissors, I thought to myself, "I might as well hand over a razor-sharp needle and thread! Now is as good a time as ever to learn how to sew!"

I modeled briefly how to thread the needle through the end of each chili pepper (and not through your finger or other necessary body part). With explicit instructions not to touch the flaming hot juices to his eyes or tongue, I turned my back and my attention toward another much more critical and pressing task: the sink full of dirty dishes.

At this point you should probably know that my son rarely listens to a word that I say. So choosing to step away from this little craft/experiment was a deliberate act of faith. Okay, maybe there was a little negligence involved. But what can I say? Those dishes weren't going to do themselves, and this seemed like a good [if not slightly odd] pre-assessment for following directions and working independently at your desk. After all, kindergarten is only a month away. It's important for him to be prepared!

Forty-five minutes later, the dishes were done and the kitchen was sparkling. And you know what? All of the red hot chili peppers were strung neatly--perfectly I daresay--AND they were in order from biggest to smallest. My son beamed, so proud of himself, and I did, too. Then I quickly took the scissors and needle away... far, far away. I was not about to press my luck.

We hung his crafty creation to dry (and please the eye) near our kitchen window. It even complements our living room color scheme! Do I win a parenting award for this? Ha ha.

My son turned to me with a gleam in his eye and a slightly twisted smile. "What vegetable do I get to sew next, Mommy?"