The Ghost Pepper

I became a man tonight.

It all started with Jonny, my little brother who has a heart for adventure and a knack for spicy food. A friend of ours had brought ghost peppers over to go along with our Taco Bell dinner tonight. 

I’ll be the first to admit: I hate spicy foods. I find nothing appealing about them. But there we were, all jolly and all eating our tacos when Jonny decided to try a ghost pepper. 

He was such a brave boy.

But soon after unleashing the spice that wasn’t so nice, he became a man.

It was truly inspiring, but I declined the offer to try one myself.

Because here’s another confession: I hate peppers. 

But then Jonny got it out of the bag, and before I could say “this is a bad idea,” I grabbed the ghost and popped into my mouth.

A little bit of me died that moment. Looking back I realized it was the boy within me who had died, and the man within was only beginning to come alive.

To even begin to describe the terrible sensation and pure flames that engulfed my mouth wouldn’t do any justice. It was a nightmare. 

I think I drank at least two gallons of water after that, not to mention a quart of milk, too.

In the end, though, I highly recommend it. There’s nothing like telling my grandkids years from now this story and seeing the wonder in their eyes. That’s right, Grandpa’s the man he is today because he ate a ghost pepper.

Sometimes you gotta do things in life just to say you’ve done them.

Like eating a ghost pepper.

I ate a ghost pepper.

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