Those Fries Are Flaming Hot!

The inventor of Doritos just recently died.
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Normally, this may not be noteworthy, but ironically, he lived to be 97. Arch West was honored by his family at his memorial as they sprinkled Doritos onto his grravesite. This news was particularly heartbreaking for my family as Doritos are practically a food group in my household.

Yes, we eat fruits and vegetables, too, but we enjoy the occasional crunchy snack, even if it isn’t the healthiest of choices.  One particular favorite is the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos brand, also made by Frito-Lay. (This is the snack of choice of my oldest son, Ryan.)  While the spicy hot flavor is a preferred flavor in our house, I found out that it’s pretty popular elsewhere, too.

I just returned from my annual girls’ trip with my dear friends Lisa, Nancy and Margaret.   The venue and adventures change every year, but our topics of conversation are usually the same and invariably, our dialogue turns to our children.  All of these ladies have children, and Margaret and Lisa have sons about the same age as my youngest son, Daniel, and this trip, Margaret was accompanied by her 8-year-old son, Logan.   We all stopped at a local grocery store in Carson City, Nevada, and Logan just HAD to have some flaming hot fries, akin to the Spicy Doritos/Flamin’ Hot Cheetos that I am accustomed to.  Margaret initially said no, but relented after considering we had no food at all in the hotel room and that maybe some snacks would keep him occupied in the small quarters we all shared.  Logan was elated.

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When we returned to the hotel room, Lisa enlightened us all with a story about how her son, Dexter, had eaten his share of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and had, well, a little accident.  Apparently, Dexter vomited all over his comforter and Lisa had a terrible time getting the red dye out of the bedcover.  Logan, unfazed by this news, continuted to enjoy his hot fries in moderation.

The next night, however, we all celebrated Margaret’s mother’s 80th birthday, and the hot fries were out in abundance.  At the end of the evening, Lisa, Nancy and I left to stay at the hotel while Logan and Margaret and the rest of her family stayed at her mom’s.  No grand surprise, Logan and his hot fries had a disagreement and Logan was the loser.  Evidentially, Logan pulled a Dexter, and barfed out all that awesome “Red 40 Lake” dye, all over the bedspread.  As Lisa predicted, Margaret had quite a time extracting all the red dye from the fabric.  While Logan’s overzealousness with the hot fries ultimately led to his sickness,  I am not sure that this helped:

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Logan eventually felt better and we all made our way to our respective homes.  When I returned to Arizona, I removed the Hot Cheetos from Daniel’s grip, if only to save myself from several comforter-washings.  All I could think was Arch West must have had a comforter that looked like this:

Rest in Peace, Mr. West.

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