Michael rested his head against the edge of the table, breathing slowly in and out trying to cool the fire in his mouth. “You are…never…allowed to…be in control…of the spices…again.” Michael groaned between cooling breaths.
“I’m sorry,” Matthew whimpered, “I thought that pepper was pepper. It was just a color difference.”
“There is a big difference,” Michael groaned, sitting up now, feeling a little bit less like his mouth was filed with fire, “No, there is a huge difference between cayenne pepper and black pepper. If you use too much Cayenne pepper, you get— “Michael made a vague gesture at the food in front of them.
“Aggressively spicy tacos?” Matthew offered.
Michael laughed in spite of the fact that his eyes were still kind of watering, “Yes. That’s it exactly. You get Aggressively Spicy Tacos.”
For a second they both sat and stared at the four extra tacos, already made and sitting in front of them.
“So—“ Michael grinned, “Want to go offer Lizzie some tacos?”
Matthew smiled wide. If they were pranking their sister—then he wasn’t persona non-grata anymore. “She is working hard on her paper. She’s probably hungry.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say.” He grabbed the plate of tacos and headed up the stairs, Matthew quick on his heels.