My husband was never a Boy Scout. I find this surprising in light of the following:
We had southwestern food for dinner last night, including salsa and fresh jalapenos. As my husband carried his full plate to the designated eating spot, I noticed that he had something else.
A ginormous bottle of this:
I looked at him quizzically and he said, "This way, I won't have fiery shits tomorrow."
I said, "You know I'm going to blog this, don't you?"
He said, "Go ahead. I'm not ashamed."
And really, I have nothing to add to that.