I'll tell you right now, I hate competing, especially if the competition is against a friend I wouldn't want to hurt. And that's not to say I'd win any competition. Some, of course, are a no-brainer. I could eat my weight in maraschino cherries, and Mel can't stand them, so I'd win that contest without even a showdown.
My mother has a caretaker, Bonnie, who comes to our home every day to help us with Mom. I discovered a sad part of her character the other day--she loves sour balls, sour suckers, sour teas. That's not so bad, I don't suppose. We all have our weaknesses. I'm champion maraschino cherry eater (and cherry seed spitter, but that's a more romantic story about how I won Mel over during our courtship.) But when my husband AND Mom's caretaker compete against one another to see who can suck on a sour sucker the longest without making a face, I can't help wondering what this world has come to.
My favorite source of food competition is hot stuff. Not only hot Mexican sauces of some kind, but horseradish or wasabi sauce that can take the skull right off the top of your head and set it back in place backward.
You can take your ball games and your races and your speed writing. Give me a good ol' eating contest any day until the smoke is catching your hair on fire or your jaw is splitting from the tartness of a cherry sucker.
What's your pleasure when it comes to food competition?
Labels: Competition, men or women?, photos by Eugene Arthur Patterson, Who's better