My friends and I exchanged gifts in the parking lot of church in the rain and wind after Christmas Eve service, so there was a little confusion. Things were wrapped in plastic bags and tags and cards were lost in the process.
Two of my gifts were boxes of candy from a fine local chocolatier. Being Christmas, I had such an abundance of high-sugar, high-fat treats already that I did not open them right away. I took them over to share with my parents.
Then I went on vacation for 5 days.
My mom called me while I was on my trip.
"Where did those chocolates come from?" she asked.
"I'm not sure, Mom. The cards got separated from the gifts, but I know they came from Trufflehounds downtown."
"Well! I wouldn't give them to my worst enemy!" she said.
"Whaaaa?" I asked. Trufflehounds makes really, really good chocolate.
"I don't know what is wrong with them, but I ate a piece and I thought 'I AM IN HELL!'"
"What was wrong?"
"It was burning me! At first it tasted like chocolate but then oh my god it was awful, burning!"
It hit me all at once. A few months back, Ish had enthused about Trufflehounds' chili chocolate - bars of dark chocolate liberally laced with chili powder. We both love hot, hot food, but my mom is the kind of person who claims that mild salsa is "So spicy!"
I had inadvertently poisoned my own mom.
Ah well. One man's meat is another man's poison, as they say. I have polished off almost the whole rest of the box by myself.
As Ralph says at about 22 seconds...