Hold the chili please... Check that

At a high school football game:

Me: Can I get a plain hot dog please?

Friendly Neighborhood Concession Volunteer: Sorry, we just have wienies (really?) and chili.

Me: Right, I just want a plain hot dog.

FNCV: No {struggling to find the words}, we just have wienies and chili.

Me: {blink... blink}

FNCV: We can't make them here and they come with the chili already on them.

Me: OH. {And... really?}

Me: Ok, can I get a chili dog... and a fork?

I was completely freaked out because J had been looking forward to a "hot gog" ever since I told her we were going to the football game - pieces-parts encased in whatever the wienies are encased in are the best part of sporting events as far as she's concerned - and since I wouldn't in a million years eat a freakin' chili dog I just assumed she wouldn't either. In the past she's only eaten them plain - no ketchup, no mustard, no relish, no whatever Those Who Eat Hot Dogs eat on their hot dogs - so I felt sure a big mound of artificially colored ground beef oozing out of each end would be the kiss of death for dinner at the football stadium.

Just for kicks, I offered her a bite before I commenced to scraping. Not only did she eat. every. last. bite. but she ate the chili off the top first and then went back for the dog.

Definitely her father's child.