Flesh hanging down in chunks . . .
From blisters recently burst . . .
That’s what’s going on in my mouth this morning.
For heaven’s sake!
When will I ever learn?
Last night I went to my daughter’s house for dinner.
“Is dinner ready?” I asked. “I’m starving.”
And really, how pathetic was that statement?
I was hungry, but not starving.
It wasn’t like I was going to fall over and die from hunger pangs.
But no sooner had my daughter taken the pizza out of the oven . . .
Then I was on top of it with a pizza cutter in hand . . .
And seconds later . . .
HOT CHEESE STUCK TO THE ROOF OF MY MOUTH!
What was wrong with my brain?
After years of knowing pizza from an oven has piping hot cheese . . .
I still bit into it!
I also do it with take-out coffee.
Especially from Starbucks.
Of course the coffee is hot.
But I can hardly wait for it to cool before I . . .
Burn my tongue and lips!
And if I’ve really taken a big gulp . . .
I’ll burn my tonsils too.
I'm afraid if I don't stop doing this . . .
I'll be in my doctor's office one day complaining that I can't taste anything anymore.
He’s going to look in my mouth and say . . .
“HCS? What’s that?”
“Hot Cheese Syndrome. Your taste buds are seared from years of burning your mouth with hot pizza cheese.”
“Is there a cure?”
“No. But there is a clinical trial for HCS if you’re interested.”
“Tell me more.”
“They’re finding that HCS originates in the brain.”
“It’s fascinating. They think people with HCS actually have masochistic rogue brain cells that override common sense. Do you want to sign up?”
“Absolutely! I’ll do anything to help prevent others from the pain and suffering of Hot Cheese Syndrome.”