Bryce Moore's Blog, page 211

Parent Teacher Conference Time

It being November, I see a lot of people posting all the things they’re thankful for on Facebook. (Wait a minute–that came out wrong. I meant to say, I see a lot of people on Facebook posting all the things they’re thankful for. There’s a big difference there.) While I haven’t been doing that, I did want to take a minute to say how grateful I am for children who are attentive, obedient, courteous, and who really want to learn and succeed.

Last night I had both TRC’s and DC’s parent teacher conferences, and true to form, both were smooth sailing. First came DC’s, whose teacher regaled me with stories of how great my daughter is. Of course, I’ve never had any parent teacher conference go any differently, so I suppose there’s the chance that this is how they all go for all parents, but something tells me that isn’t the case. In any case, DC is ahead of the curve on reading and math, and she’s working hard at showing First Grade who’s boss.

TRC, meanwhile, has an enduring love for science. It’s his best subject by far. (Well, he has a 100% in it. His other grades can’t keep up.) His teacher complimented him both on his smarts but–just as important to me–how well he’s behaved in class and what a good example he is to other people. Smarts are one thing, and they’re often out of your control one way or the other. Being a hard worker and a nice human being?

That’s all up to the individual.

So as I was driving home and then when I got home and saw all the thankful posts on Facebook, I was certainly reminded that I have a lot to be thankful for myself. Often it’s the things we take most for granted that are the things we actually would miss the most if they were different.

Thanks, kids! And keep up the great work!

How Deep Does the Mouse Hole Go?

Okay, peoples. This stuff just got real. The internet company finally(!) sent someone out to figure out what was wrong with our connection. It didn’t take them too long: they went around pulling on wires until they found one that jerked a little too easily.

A mouse had chewed right through it.

That’s right. My mouse problem and my internet problem are *one and the same*!

Words fail to capture the exact feelings of loathing and hatred coursing through my veins when it comes to mice at the moment. Suffice it to say that I’ve ordered an additional 20 traps of various shapes and sizes. They’ll be arriving Friday, and Operation Mouse Eradication will be escalated to Code Red.

It’s a small comfort, but as I’ve talked to other people in the area, it seems like mice have been especially bad this year in many places. Maybe we had too good of a summer? I have no idea. But I do know that these rodents must go. (Not that I didn’t know they had to go before. In a way, I feel like the US Government, where the only way I can show just how serious I am about something is to go and spend more money on it, despite the fact that all my money spending to date hasn’t done a blessed thing to stop the problem. Thanks for pointing that out, smarty pants.)

And no–a cat still isn’t a viable option. I know you people love ‘em, but I think they stink and they’re annoying. In other news, I’m not in a particularly good mood at the moment. Can you tell?

All mice must die!

Joseph Smith had 30-40 Wives?

A few weeks ago, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) published a series of articles on the history of polygamy in the church. The articles made a small Mormon splash at the time, but today the story got picked up by the major news outlets–it’s high up on the home page of CNN, for example. Fox also has a story up on it. This isn’t anything that I wasn’t aware of, but it seems like it was news to quite a few people for a couple of reasons:

The number of wives–I think a fair number of members would sort of gloss over polygamy with a general shrug of the shoulders and a “That ended more than a hundred years ago” excuse. Brigham Young also got most of the attention, with Joseph flying under the polygamy radar, so to speak. (Now there’s a mental image you don’t think of every day.) So to find out that Joseph had so many wives takes many people off guard. This isn’t a hang up for me. If you’ve accepted polygamy as part of the church’s history, I actually think it makes more sense that Joseph was practicing it than that he wasn’t. I always assumed that he was, and that it was fairly extensive–and all articles I’d read about it supported this assumption. (A general note: when I hear people lobbing accusations against the church, I typically will track down the accusations and investigate them. Probably another reason these articles didn’t catch me off guard.)
The age of the wives–Joseph’s youngest wife was 14 years old (though the church points out that in this case–as in a number of others–the marriage was for “eternity only,” which essentially means he was married to her for the life to come, not the current life. No marital relations in the here and now.) From a  modern sensibility, this is certainly shocking. Then again, the age of consent (age when society deemed marriage appropriate) in the US at the time was much younger than it is today. From the article I just linked: “When historian Magnus Hirschfeld surveyed the age of consent of some fifty countries (mostly in Europe and the Americas) at the beginning of the twentieth century, the age of consent was twelve in fifteen countries, thirteen in seven, fourteen in five, fifteen in four, and sixteen in five.” Going back in history and applying today’s societal norms just doesn’t work.
The fact that some of the wives were already married to other men at the time–That does tend to raise a few eyebrows. The article states that there’s not a ton of information about this, and that in the cases where there was, most of the information tends to indicate that these marriages were also for “eternity only.” I have no idea why this would happen, but I do know from reading one of my own ancestor’s journals that she was proposed to by Smith. She turned him down, but was later married to him after his death. This baffles me, but not in an “and so I must leave the church” sort of a way. More of an “I wonder what in the world was going on back then” sort of way.

I for one am very glad the church is publishing these essays. They’ve been well received by historians (both Mormon and non-), and they’re much better researched and referenced than the tripe you’ll find on anti-Mormon websites which are only a Google away at any moment. The fact that the church is recognizing this and presenting the issues to its members is a good thing. Of course, there are quite a few who want the church to be pushing this even more. I’m not sure what they’re expecting–a letter to be read at every pulpit? These issues are (for me) tangential to the religion. They give historical context to events in the past, but the core of the religion remains in the basics: faith in Christ and God.

I suppose one of the reasons the articles on CNN and Fox rub me the wrong way is the way they’re phrased. “Mormon leaders admit church founder Joseph Smith practiced polygamy.” “New Mormon essay: Joseph Smith married teens, other men’s wives.” You typically don’t “admit” something good. You admit something you’re ashamed of. Something you’ve been trying to hide. Is the church ashamed of what Joseph Smith did? It should only be if what he did was wrong. That said, I can see how outsiders could view it as wrong, and so the article would warrant the “admit” verb.

The natural question some of you might be asking is, “Why in the world do you believe in a religion that did so much strange stuff, Bryce?” The answer for me, as always, comes down to the fact that I’ve studied this faith (and others), I’ve prayed about it, and I’ve received personal revelation that it’s true. I’ve followed it’s teachings, and they’ve brought me every happy thing I can point to in my life. (Well, except ice cream.) Are there things about the religion I don’t get? Yes, but that’s what truth looks like to me. Truth is thorny. Complicated. It’s not straightforward and easy all the time. The same applies to science and mathematics. When I was in physics, for the first while we did all our calculations without things like “air resistance” getting in the way. And then there came a day when my teacher admitted (there’s that verb again) that it’s more complicated than we were thinking it was. That’s a basic example, but just try looking at some of the scientific issues of today. They’re just as thorny.

Atheists like to trumpet how they don’t need a god in their view of the universe, but they end up stumped by many of the same questions. It’s just that their explanations differ slightly. “God didn’t create the universe! Science tells us it happened as part of the Big Bang.” Okay. What existed before the Big Bang? “We don’t know. It’s one of the mysteries of the universe. One day, we might figure it out.” I’m not meaning to slam science here. I believe the Big Bang happened. I believe it’s mysterious. I just also believe the explanation to that mystery likely comes back to rest at God’s doorstep.

Truth is thorny. Truth is complicated.

So to all my Mormon friends who are reading these articles and scratching your heads, my advice is to take a deep breath. There’s no “smoking gun” here that invalidates an entire religion. People are complicated, and the more we know about a person, the more complicated they become. It’s easy to present history as being smooth and simple. Motivations are clean cut and easy to understand. Reality doesn’t work like that. That’s a universal principle, and the sooner you acknowledge that, the sooner you stop demanding simplicity from your answers.

If anyone has questions, I’m open to field them. But remember, this is a sensitive issue to many. Keep things clean and on the up and up, please. If not, don’t be surprised if your comment gets automagically deleted.

These Aren’t Mice. They’re the Rats of NIMH

Okay. I’m not saying I have rats in my house (other than our pet Degus, that is), but I am saying that these rodents are no ordinary rodents. A serious evolutionary jump has occurred inside my walls, folks. How do I know this?

Because these mice are set on world domination, and they’ve come up with an approach that makes them practically immune to any repercussions.

Traps? I’ve set them. They don’t go for the bait, no matter what we use. They were eating our pears, so we put pears out. They stopped eating pears. Eating our avocados, so we put avocados out. Stopped eating avocados. They’ve been munching on Denisa’s African violets–anything but the things we put in traps. No peanut butter, no nutella, no raisins, no walnuts, no nothing.

So we tried glue traps, putting them right where they were coming up from the basement.

They somehow are vaulting over these traps, or they find other ways into the house. We tried the electric sonic mice repellent things. No go.

I’m beginning to think they’re doing things just to make me more mad than I already am. One is living in the wall right by our bed. At 2am every morning, it starts chewing on the wood for a good half hour or so.

Sleep deprivation, people. These mice are retaliating with *psychological warfare*!

So I decided to up the ante. I made a bucket trap a friend recommended: get a 5 gallon bucket, fill it half way with water, put a dowel across it with a tin can on it, coat the tin can in peanut butter or nutella, and then when the mice crawl out on the dowel to get the goodies, the old “log roll” action takes over, and they fall into the water.

Where they drown a miserable death, serving as examples to all other would be pear-thieves in our domicile.

The only problem? These mice aren’t going for the bucket trick, either. I’d think about a cat, but they don’t typically come out into the open. They lurk in cupboards or walls or ceiling spaces. Honestly, when one started gnawing the wall while Denisa and I were watching a movie yesterday, it was a good thing I don’t own a shotgun. I would have shot multiple holes in my wall, just to kill the dang thing.

I’ll try moving the bucket around the house some. Sooner or later, something has to work. Right?

RIGHT?

Getting Ready for Ski Season

[Cool people can name the movie this picture is from. Are you cool?]

Some people have yearly family traditions. Putting up decorations for holidays. Special foods they eat at a specific time of year. Ways they celebrate birthdays. But last night it occurred to me that there are other traditions that might not get as much attention, but which are just as valid and important. Getting school supplies for the new school year, for example. Not exactly a holiday, but certainly important if you have kids, and the longer you do it (and the more kids you have), the more like a tradition it becomes.

Last night’s tradition in Bryce-ville? Getting out the ski equipment and figuring out what new stuff we need for this year. Denisa’s been teaching each of our kids to ski once they’re two years old or so. (MC isn’t to that point yet, since she’s just 19 months old.) Normally, buying all the equipment would cost a small fortune, but our local ski club holds an annual ski swap where people put their equipment up for sale, and you can pick up skis for pretty darn cheap ($10 or so, often). Same for boots.

The ski sale is happening Saturday at the high school, so it was time to figure out where we stood.

There’s a lot of clothing and stuff that goes along with kids learning to ski. In our family, it means 2 pairs of snow pants, 2 pairs of gloves, a helmet, goggles, ski boots, winter boots, winter coat, neck warmer, face mask, skis, poles, fleece pants, winter hat–and I’m sure I’m forgetting some things. When you’ve got all that equipment, and it’s all thrown in together at the end of each year, and you add growing children and some wear and tear to everything . . .

Keeping track of it all can be a small nightmare.

So yesterday evening was filled with finding the right bins from the basement, bringing them up to the light of day, and then trying everything on to see what fits, what needs to be replaced, and what needs to be bought new. The verdict? DC needs skis and poles, TRC needs a second pair of snow pants, Denisa’s finally getting new skis and boots (hers are still from Communist Czechoslovakia, if that dates them at all. Maybe they were bought just after the regime fell . . . ) and DC needs ice skates. (TRC has officially given the sport up.)

I’ll be on baby-watching duty again this year, which is fine. Though it was fun to see how excited the kids were to be reunited with their equipment. We’ve had non-ski-aged kids for so long, it’ll be strange next year to be able to start all going as a family when we go. (And humbling, no doubt. TRC and DC can ski circles around me, and it’ll have been years since I went.) One of the things I like best about this area is that we live in a spot where a family can go skiing together for the season and not have to pay an arm and a leg to do so. No, it’s not the Rockies, but it’s more than enough for what we’re looking for, so yay for that–and yay for the volunteers who  keep Titcomb Mountain running each year.

In any case, the kids and Denisa are getting pretty excited for snow to come and the slopes to open. So all you winter-haters can go some place sunny and stop bringing the no-snow-mojo to Maine. Bring it, winter!

And in case you need a hint on the movie picture:

NaNoWriMo Update

In case you missed it on Facebook and Twitter, I decided last week to join up with NaNoWriMo and give it a shot. 2,000 words a day is really a stretch for me, especially when Denisa is working and all the rest of life seems to be in constant chaos, but I’ve always liked the concept, and I’ve liked hearing about other people’s efforts to do it in the past. Since I had a basic idea for a story kicking around in my head (well, it just came to me October 25th or so), I figured I might as well go for it. I’d already written 7,000 words of the book before November 1st, but I’m not counting those toward the overall goal of 50,000 words by the end of November. (The trick, of course, is that I don’t know how long this book will end up being. If it ends up being shorter than 57,000 words, I’ll work on my Christmas newsletter in the leftover time.)

So how is it going?

Some things about it have made writing easier for me. I love the fact that I can go online and check other people’s writing progress. I’m buddies with 10 people (not all of which are actually working on a book. I’m looking at you, Dan Wells, Brandon Sanderson, and Isaac Stewart. (Well, I realize you’re not using the site actively, but when I saw you were on there as users, how could I resist? And come to think of it, I’d really rather you and Dan not post your word totals, Brandon. Let me have the illusion that I’m writing quickly, please.) It makes writing feel like much less of a solitary thing, and it taps into my competitive nature. (Megan Grey’s almost to 10,000 words, eh? Not before I get there first!) I know this is silly–I’ve been writing every day for more than a decade. There’s nothing I need to prove to anyone about my writing speed or my stick-to-itiveness. And yet it’s a race.

And I want to win.

It’s also very helpful to me to be able to just plug in my word totals every day and see them get bigger and bigger. The OCD in me loves filling out charts. Adores it. I find myself taking breaks in my writing just so I can go update my word count total on nanowrimo.org. Again, I realize it’s silly. But if it gets me writing and keeps me motivated, than whatever works.

But the fact is that 2,000 words a day is pushing me harder than I thought it would. I’m having to squeeze extra writing into all sorts of nooks and crannies I didn’t know I had, and it’s certainly adding to the my stress levels. Is that wise? Probably not. But I’m going to keep doing it, because it feels great to see how fast I’m going. I just cracked the 10,000 word mark today (17,000 words total on the book), and I haven’t even been writing for two weeks. Woohoo!

Could I do this every day? Very doubtful. Number one, I just don’t have the time. Number two, it’s not every day that I have an idea like this fall into my lap. The characters have been writing themselves, the plot is just unfurling as I write. This feels very much like the exception, not the rule.

So what am I writing about? For long time readers, it’s a Peter Pan adaptation in the same vein as ICHABOD was an adaptation of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. A boy gets sucked into a copy of Peter Pan and has to find the exit before the entire book dissolves. But naturally it’s not that easy. Pirates and Lost Boys show up and complicate matters. Honestly, I don’t think it gets summed up in a way that does it justice. It’s been a blast to write, and at the end of the day, that seems perfect for this exercise. To further complicate matters, I’m writing in third person for the first time in . . . eight years? Nine years? Something like that. Since CAVERN OF BABEL, at least. I’ve been meaning to give it another shot at some point, and this seemed like a good opportunity.

Sheesh–this project is sounding more and more like a Frankenstein monster the more I describe it. Good thing I’m enjoying the process, stress and all. Will I be able to publish it? That’s not something I can afford to consider as I write this. I’m focused on fun and speed, and the rest will have to worry about itself later. I’ll have to see what my writing group (and my agents) think of it, but the good news is that it’ll be done by the end of the month, and I’ve got nothing better to write at the moment. (I’m waiting for revision notes on THE MEMORY THIEF sometime this month or next, and my agents are reading OUR LADY at the moment, so that work is on pause, as well.)

In any case, I hope I can keep it up. I normally try to finish writing and revising one book a year, but if this experiment works out well, I might be able to do more than that in the future. We’ll see.

So keep going, all you crazy NaNoWriMo-ers out there! Want to be my buddy? (That sounds so corny!) Go here and add me. Let’s see those word totals racking up. Write like the wind!

But don’t write faster than me. You’ll give me a complex.

Some Thoughts on the Election Results

It’s amazing to me that there are still people out there willing to somehow believe things are going to change due to an election. Is this a sign of how jaded I’ve become? It’s just that I’ve seen too many people make big promises leading up to an election, only to turn around and do a whole lot of nothing once the election is done. (The fifth season of The Wire actually brought this into focus quite nicely. You had a real up and comer politician who thought he could make some real changes get elected. Then what happened? The system wore him down in about two seconds, and he turned his sights on getting a higher position.)

The Republicans won the Senate? Great. Is that going to make any real difference whatsoever? The good or bad news (depending on your political persuasion) is that I don’t really think it will. Two years from now at the next general election, my bets are on Congress still being loathed, the country still being mired in gridlock, and us all looking back to see not a lot has gone on in the last two years.

I would love to be wrong about this. Anything that broke this cycle of ineptitude would at least get the country moving again. Sometimes you have to go backward before you can go forward–sort of like what happens when your car gets stuck in the snow.

On a local level, I’ll admit to being very surprised that LePage managed to win his race. Even though I didn’t vote for either him or his biggest challenger, my bet would have been on Michaud pulling it off, especially after Cutler backed away from the table last week. The thing is, I hear a lot of people still blaming Cutler for Michaud’s loss–and Mitchell’s loss the last time around. If anything, I think LePage’s victory both times can be laid squarely at the feet of the Democrats. Cutler almost won last time. He would have if Mitchell had bowed out. This time, if the goal was “LePage shall not get a second term no matter what,” then Michaud should have backed off and let Cutler have a clean shot at the governor. I think you would have seen almost 100% of Michaud’s supporters go to Cutler’s camp.

But hindsight is always something something.

Our country and our state seem to get along, one way or another–in spite of the best efforts of our political process. If you’re a staunch Republican, my advice would be to not get your hopes up. Give these guys a few months, and we’ll think they’re bums just like the rest of them. A staunch Democrat? Chin up. Gridlock beats party lines every time.

It’s a wonder I still follow politics, with this sort of attitude . . .

In Which I Waste My Vote

It’s election day, and that means it’s time for Bryce to vote. There’s a couple of races up here in Maine that I’ve been following. The biggest is obviously the race for governor. For you non-Mainers out there, we have a three way race, with a Democrat, an Independent, and an incumbent Republican.

Last time around, I voted for LePage—the Republican. He seemed like the sort of person who would dive in, get his hands dirty, and fix things. Sure, he had a big mouth at times, but I figured I didn’t care what he said. I cared about what he did.

Then he went and got himself elected, and he set about proving me wrong. The man never met an idiotic statement he didn’t like, whether it was telling off the NAACP or bad mouthing the press. He’s managed to make the national news on several occasions, and he’s made Maine look like a bunch of ignorant hicks every time he’s done so.

And as for getting things done? He’s done some things, but I don’t feel like he’s been very effective overall. Granted, some of this is because I’m surrounded by librarians and professors—not exactly the most Republican group out there. Mention LePage in some rooms and I’m surprised the whole room doesn’t go, “LePage!” and then spit on the ground in disgust.

Still, I don’t think I’m so easily influenced by my peers as to give up on a guy just because people don’t like him. (I still like W. Bush, for example, and I continue to think he did a great job as president with the hand he was dealt. But that’s a topic for a different time.)

So I don’t like LePage. So why don’t I do what everyone else is doing and vote for the Democrat? The problem with this one is that I don’t really think Michaud (the Dem) is going to get anything done at all. He seems to me sort of like a sack of flour. Wherever he gets dumped, he’ll sit there doing not a whole lot until someone picks him up again and carries him somewhere else. Maine needs someone who’s going to get things done. There are a lot of problems in the state, and I’d like to see them fixed. I don’t feel like Michaud’s the man for the job.

But wait! There’s an Independent running, right? Right. Cutler. And Cutler impresses me. He’s bright, he’s not ruled by either party, and I think he’d get stuff done. Not perfect, but certainly my favorite of the three. The only problem? He ran last election, and he almost beat LePage but came just short—in the process drawing a lot of support away from the Democrat running. So there are a whole slew of people who are quite bitter LePage won last time, and who blame Cutler for that victory.

As I’ve talked to different people, quite a few have said they like Cutler and would vote for him—they voted for him last time—but they’re worried if they do it again, LePage will pull off another victory, so they’re voting for Michaud, instead. Ironically, I’ve also met conservative Cutler supporters who aren’t voting for Cutler because they’re worried about how many people are going to vote for Michaud, and they’d rather an idiot win the race than a sack of flour.

This is the situation we come to: a whole bunch of people thinking the third candidate’s the one for the job, but no one willing to vote for him, because they’re too worried about their least favorite candidate winning. This isn’t a race about choosing the best candidate. It’s a game to see if you can ensure your least favorite candidate loses.

And then we’ll be stuck with the result for the next four years. Joy.

So who am I voting for? Cutler. I realize he doesn’t have a chance of winning, but I just can’t bring myself to vote any differently. I don’t want to support LePage or Michaud. It feels strange to me, but there you have it.

One of the local papers had a test you could take to see which party you support more, based on the issues. I took it and discovered I’m split right down the middle. I support half the Democrat ticket and half the Republican. So I suppose whoever wins today, I can either be half happy or half sad.

Such is life.

At least it’ll be entertaining to watch the drama unfold, even if it leaves me with mixed emotions. How about you—any races you’re watching particularly closely? I’d be more than happy to discuss the various issues, as long as people keep it respectful and clean. And whatever side you support, please please please

GO VOTE!!!!!

Living in the Dark Ages

Early last week, the internet at my house went down. I wasn’t too concerned. It was likely just a router issue–happens all too often–so I went and reset it.

That didn’t fix the problem.

This escalated the problem from minor concern to minor annoyance. I was going to have to call the internet peoples and have them perform their voodoo on the connection. And they were probably going to want me to hook my laptop up directly to the router instead of just using the wireless, which meant I’d have to find an ethernet cable somewhere. It is a hard life I lead, what can I say? So I picked up the phone and called tech support.

Fifteen minutes later, I set the phone down, stunned.

The voodoo hadn’t worked. They were going to have to put in a ticket to “escalate the support.”

Normally, this would mean a day or two more of no internet. But at the moment, my internet company is kind of on strike. Well, no “kind of” about it. It’s been going on since October 16th, and I have no idea when it’s going to end. I do know that in the meantime, the odds of my downed internet being escalated anywhere other than nowhere are “slim to none.”

What does this mean?

It means all my internet use at home is down to the trickle I sip through my phone. It means no Netflix, no streaming music, no news updates, no playing any online games, no checking upcoming movie trailers, no watching any sports. In a nutshell, it means I have a lot more time on my hands, if you want to get all “glass is half full on me.” I’ve been reduced to watching my DVD/Bluray collection people. Physical media!

I think I just saw fire and brimstone raining outside my window. I think the world may be ending. Not that I’d know about it on time, since I have no internet at my house.

Somehow, I’ll see my way through this. It might require massive amounts of chocolate, but thankfully Halloween has provided me with an abundance of the stuff by way of the Dad Tax on my children’s seven pounds of candy. (Seven pounds, folks. Count ‘em.) In the meantime, any and all care packages are welcome, though calls to the Red Cross to send assistance are probably just a tad premature.

Thank goodness I have an internet connection at work . . .

My Affair with Sriracha Sauce

I first encountered Sriracha sauce in Schwarzenberg, Germany of all places. It’s a town of about 25,000 in the southern part of former Eastern Germany. Not exactly a place well known for its love of spiciness. But I was there on my mission, and I was visiting a family that had made us a treat for dinner: Mexican food! And they’d even gotten us some hot sauce to go with it. (I believe it was tacos or burritos, but it’s hazy at this point.) My companion at the time (Elder Urien) took one look at the bottle and scoffed, telling me (softly, and in English), “German hot sauce is totally weak. We’ll have to drown the food with this to give it any sort of kick.”

I’d been out in Germany for all of a month or so, so whatever he said was absolutely true. I nodded, thankful for the tip.

The family explained they’d gone through a lot of trouble to find the sauce, and they were particularly proud of how hot it was. My companion and I tried to keep the smiles from our faces. Silly Germans. This was the same family whose son had tried a drop of Tabasco and gone running around like a madman, desperate for water.

We each took that bottle with the rooster on it (“Sriracha”–what a silly name. It must be made up. It didn’t even sound Mexican.) and dumped a ton of it all over those tacos. We’re talking spreading it on like ketchup. The family watched all of this, aghast. What in the world were we doing? Were we crazy?

“That’s really, really hot,” the father (Brother Ebisch, as I recall) told us.

We nodded. “We know,” Elder Urien said.

It felt pretty boss, to be able to smother so much “hot” sauce on our food. Truly, we were manly missionaries. Missionaries who would show these Germans what spice tolerance was all about. Missionaries who–

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S GOOD ON THIS EARTH!

If you can’t tell, I’d just taken my first bite. And suddenly, I found myself in a bit of a pickle. I’d just bragged about how great I could handle hot sauce. I’d proceeded to put this hellfire all over my food, and I was doing my best to pretend it wasn’t bothering me at all–even as my eyes were tearing up.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” Brüder Ebisch asked us.

I coughed a few times and took a drink. Why were the cups so small in this country? “No,” I said. “Just a bit of a kick.” Could I wipe my eyes and have them not notice? Was I sweating that much?

And did I really have to finish two more tacos?

Somehow or another, I survived that experience. And I never touched Sriracha again. It was this mental block. I couldn’t handle it. But then last week in the grocery store, I saw it, and I said to myself, “Self, the time has come to prove to yourself that you’re bigger than a small bottle of hot sauce. The time has come for Sriracha!”

I love me some spicy, but I was intimidated by this stuff still. I put a bit on my rice that evening. Just a drop. I didn’t want to spontaneously combust, after all. My children watched with mouths hanging open. They’d heard my story of Sriracha before. They knew what might await me.

But sometimes, you have to show your kids that you can overcome fear.

I took a bite.

It was barely hot at all. And it was also extremely tasty. It turns out, when you don’t put a gallon of the stuff in your mouth at once, Sriracha is pretty much awesome sauce.

Take that, fear!