Don't Like Red Licorice

I don't like Red Licorice. Smells like hell, and tastes even nastier.

My mom got a big tub of it for Christmas. And my sister uses my hatred of red licorice as a weapon. She'll eat it, and then breathe that nasty sickly-sweet red licorice breath on me. Generally, the conflict will end there.

Yesterday, after presents had been opened, and all the good will had been drained out of the day, she escalated the conflict first by poking me with a stick of red licorice.

And then, World War III started when she stuck the end of a stick in her mouth, and wiped the wet end on my glasses, and she tried to stick the hellish stuff in my ear.

Yeah. We're grownups. At least in the eyes of the law.