Stranger Danger

I dragged the girls all over Rogers, Ar yesterday on a wild goose chase for a Mexican supermarket.  At one point, I thought we'd finally found it and I pulled into the parking lot shouting "Victory!!!"

I found myself parked in front of a salon, an aquarium supply store (I think), an exotic plant store, a video rental place/law office (yes, really), a restaurant, and a supermarket.

Unfortunately, the directions I followed took me to little Asia, and NOT little Mexico, like I had hoped, and most of the store fronts were decorated with both letters AND chinese character-like symbols.  I'm not sure where I went wrong, but finally brought myself to accept that I was a clueless, lost white girl and went to Sams Club, where I belong, for samples and a soft pretzel.

While at Sams, my one and only Hispanic friend here in Arkansas, returned my call and gave me directions to the Mercado she uses, but I was exhausted by that point, and the kids were just done.

But the directions to the mercado ended with "and it's right next to a place called Vega Taqueria---that place has THE BEST TACO'S for only $1 each."

SOLD!

We were back on the hunt.  We found the mercado quickly, and I purchased some beans.  When it came time to checkout, Quincy spied a bucket of chocolate covered bananas in a freezer by the counter.

Now, far be it from me to refuse my children something delicious.  But these were no  DAD's frozen bananas.  These things looked nasty.  Like at least a week old nasty.  So, needless to say, I said, "No" to Quincy.

Meltdown.

Time for the car.
But dang, I want a taco! I'm so close!  I looked at Quincy, and decided it was one of those days where I needed to just be a mom and take my kids home for naps.  Tacos will be there tomorrow.

The guy at the counter then reached into a little box behind the counter, and on our way (kicking, crying, screaming, dragging) out the door, handed each of them a small candy wrapper and said, "Chocolate?" but with his deep rich voice and thick accent, it came out more like, "show-co-lah-tay?"

Crying stopped immediately. 

Nice.
Even in Spanish, they know what that word means.  Of course, had it been me saying, "cállense" or "silencio" I'm certain that those crocodile tears would not have dried up so rapido.

I was initially mad.  Who gives my kid candy without asking me first?  Didn't he see her freaking out?  Who rewards that kind of behavior?  What about food allergies?   Why are my daughters taking candy from a stranger with such free will and happiness?  This is ridiculous.  Isn't parental approval a general rule in society before you give a young child a piece of candy?
I was about to protest, but then I saw the smile on Quincy's face.  It was pure joy, and it got the better of me.  I decided that it just wasn't worth getting upset.  Plus, now that the kids were cute and happy, why not go next door and get some tacos?  She needed a piece of chocolate like I needed tacos.

We go next door.
We sit.
I order 3 carne asada tacos with avocado, and some beans and rice for the kiddies.
The restaurant is full of people, but basically silent, because everyone is busy stuffing their faces with food.
A very good sign, 'cuz after the crazy tantrum I had dealt with in Pueblo Mercado,  I needed me a good taco. 

Ahhhh silence.

"MY MOUTH IS BURNING, Mommy!!!!"

"What?  Shhhh, we are in a nice---well, shhhh we're in a restaurant!"

"FIRE!!!! WAAAAAH!!! It's BURNING!" 


and then
"Oooh, mine, too! Mommy, Gross! It's burning Mommy! I want water!"

Huh?

then:

"THIS IS YUCKY CHOCOLATE!!!"

Uh Oh.

I grab the wrapper from Reese's hand:

Um, yeah. I may have gotten a D when I took Spanish in high school, but it is my understanding that when you say "Chocolate" you actually mean Chocolate, NOT a stick of Pulpa.

Ok, so for those of you who don't know what Pulparindo is, well... Mexican's don't mess around when it comes to candy. Hot and Salted candy = friggin' hot and salty.  Pulparindo is chili powder and salt smeared on a weird piece of fruit leather that resembles the filling in a fig newton. (no, not the strawberry or apple newtons. FIG newtons....remember their slogan? "It's not a cookie, it's a fig newton."  Spot on.  Fig newtons were so nasty that no branch of the cookie family tree could possibly claim to be related.) I think the fruit leather part is made from some kind of root.

In summary: Pulparindo = not chocolate. 
Not chocolate at all. 

The waitress (bless her) brought out some chips and water, then turned on the tv in the corner.

Dora, of course.   Maybe she can teach my children that when you throw a fit in Pueblo Mercado, you can expect to get burned. 

Oh, the best part?  I wanted a photo of the candy for this post, so I googled "De La Rosa Pulparindo Candy" and that's when I found this article.  

Awesome.  

Not only are my kids' mouths on fire, they also have lead poisoning.

Throw in a one-armed-man somewhere and I think I could safely say, 

"And THAT'S why you don't take candy from a stranger."