I love spicy stuff. Nothing really beats throwing that little chilli padi in your mouth right after a spoonful of noodles. The kick that little red vegetable gives you excites.
I pespire when I eat spicy stuff. Even the mildly spicy ones. Granddad does too. And he’d always carry a handkerchief in his pocket, armed at the ready, for he loves spicy as well.
He’d pour out in pespiration whenever slurping down a spicy bowl of noodles. Whenever I do now, I remember him. Enjoying the awesome food this island has to offer, intermittently wiping away the drips on his forehead. That smile after a satisfying meal.
It’s one of the little things that makes him, my grandfather.
I miss him a heck lot. And am sure quite a lot of us do.
I pespire when I eat something spicy. My grandfather does too.