|See? Cute. But hairless . . .|
I don't want to say that our second son didn't have any hair when he was born, but . . .
Okay. He didn't have any hair.
There is a story behind that . . .
And it all has to do with tomatoes.
When I was expecting him, I craved tomatoes.
I couldn't get enough tomatoes.
Or anything remotely 'tomato'.
We ate tacos a lot.
Four or five times a week.
Fortunately, my Husby liked tacos.
Have I mentioned that my Husby is a patient lad?
Well, he is.
Moving on . . .
Our tacos were very heavy in the tomato department.
Mixed into the meat as tomato sauce from a can.
Spooned on as salsa (pico de gallo).
I think we could quite literally have called them 'tomato tacos'.
Oh, and I added Tabasco sauce.
A lot of Tabasco sauce.
Because, along with my out-of-control craving for tomatoes, was my even-more-out-of-control craving for things spicy.
So my usual routine was:
- Taco shell.
- Smear with Salsa. The hottest that could be found.
- Spoon in meat, complete with lots of tomato.
- Add another giant spoon of Salsa
- Cover with fresh, diced tomatoes.
- Add fresh, diced onions and shredded cheese.
- Add another spoonful of salsa.
- Just because.
- Add seven drops of Tabasco. Seven. Not one drop more or less.
- Several times
When my baby boy was born, he had no hair on his little round head.
My Husby maintains that I burned it off.
But what do Husby's know . . .?
An interesting side note:
The day I brought my baby home from the hospital, I again made tacos.
I had been days without them and was definitely needing my fix.
I put a taco together in the same fashion that had become routine in the preceding months . . .
And couldn't eat it.
It was so hot, I couldn't get it anywhere near my face, let alone inside my mouth.
Another side note:
My Dad, from the day that Erik was born until he was two and actually began to grow hair, called my son 'Cueball'.
He even painted an 'eight' on top of his head.
All due to tomatoes.