This has come up with my nephew and his mother-in-law on Facebook recently, and this story is too good not to tell again.
My dad used to pick Michael and his brother up at daycare and they'd spend a couple of hours at the house until his mom or dad could pick them up before dinner time.
One afternoon, I was making tacos or something for dinner and Michael saw me shaking chili powder into the pan. He asked what it was and I said something about it being spices for what I was making for dinner that night. Then he asked if he could have some.
Me: "You want to try the spices?"
Michael: "Yes."
Me: "It's spicy. You might not like it."
Michael: "I wanna try."
So I gave him a little bit in the palm of his hand which he picked up on his fingers and put in his mouth. And then he toddled away.
A few minutes later, he came back, asking for more.
Me: "More? Are you sure?"
Michael: "Yes."
So I gave him a little more. Maybe 1/16 teaspoon. Enough for a couple of good licks, but not enough to make him sick. And he happily toddled away.
A few minutes after that, he came back, asking for even more.
Me: "Really? You're sure you want more?"
Michael: "Yes."
At which point I looked at the clock. His father was not more than 5-10 minutes away. And I thought "Well, not my kid." and so I gave him more. Probably about 1/4 teaspoon. It looked like a lot for a little guy, but wasn't really a lot by culinary standards.
And, as I said, not my kid.
I *think* I told his father when he came to pick him up. I know I *meant* to.
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