Three Bulbs of Garlic

I bet my 11-year old nephew, Colin, fifty ($50) dollars that he couldn’t eat three bulbs of garlic. Really, I just thought that his breath would be so stinky that I’d laugh so hard spending $50 was worth it. Plus, I figured it would be the star video on his wedding night, part of the collage of photos that are typically shown during dinner.

While initially agreeing, his mother stepped in, saying something about ‘setting an example’ and ‘irresponsible’ and something about my judgment.

Much like a pet dog that is given a scolding, I understood the tone of voice, but the words didn’t make much sense, much like a favorite Gary Larson cartoon. In the end, I felt diplomacy was the best option, and retracted my bet. Sigh. And I had already peeled 3 bulbs, about 60 cloves.

Once again, this episode reminded me what girlfriends say at the beginning of relationships with me, “Oh, you’re so wonderful with children,” and what they say at the end, “You’re so #*&!!% immature!” Trust me, ladies, those two things are connected. I AM a child.

Incidentally, I made my first profit from this blog. Granted, 43 cents won’t do much other than make a phone call, but it is something and I am proud of it. Someone bought a copy of Feynman’s book after reading my recomendation of it. Wow.