Hot & Spicy!

"Hot and Spiceeeeeeeeeee! Hot and Spiceeeeeeeee!"

Nope, we weren't trying new salsa's or anything else as tame as Mexican food where a two year old girl screaming out a good old Hot & Spicy comment wouldn't immediately cause alarm and panic.

We were in Target and passing the lingerie section.

"Hot and Spiceeeeeeeeeee! Hot and Spiceeeeeeeee!"

After garnering the attention of at least a few curious shoppers, Zoe stood up in the basket of the cart and started doing her Hot & Spicy dance -- full on booty shake screaming Hot & Spicy the entire time. I just smiled that pathetic, feel bad for me, mommas, smile and told her to "Be Quiet". NOW.

My plead for her to stop was like ignitor fluid on some hot coals. She only got more excited and danced wildly about. Xander started clapping along with his big sister's song and just shy of a circus monkey tumbling through the crowd, we were as much entertainment as aisle 10 had ever seen.

We somehow made it to a quieter spot (i.e good place to reprimand without an audience) and my ramblings of what got into you, why did you do that, and what is going on here? did nothing to calm her down. She just kept saying, "Daddy likes hot and spiceeeeeeeeeees!"

I left the cart, pondering leaving my oldest child, right where we were, deciding against it, and put one child under each arm and got the hell out of Target.

"You'll never believe what Zoe did!" started a ten minute ramble to my momma sunbathing on some fantastic beach in California with a cell to her ear. She started with a giggle and ended my rant with a full on laughing fit.

"I get it that the worst thing that could happen to you today is that you could chip a newly polished toenail, and this might seem funny now, but the dance she was doing while screaming hot and spicy could have warranted a call to Child Protective Services around here, mom! People don't take life as easily as they do out there!"

"Baby, chill out..." then some mom talk and finally some words that caught my attention. "Christmas.... Mr.'s boxers.... said they were hot and spicy... I'm sure that's where it came from."

My mind raced back to the last major holiday. I was still on bed rest with Xander and my mom was "wintering in Iowa" as she told all her friends back home in Southern California. She was practically married to my husband and they raised Zoe together for the nearly four months I was imprisoned. They would share all household chores and started a joke about "hot and spicy" undies when doing laundry, as all of my mom's were granny panties and all of Mr.'s should have been donated to Goodwill a decade ago (when in doubt, if they do not have a hole in the crotch, they probably aren't his). So when one of them would have a pair that was either new or perhaps a high cut brief, it was a joke that it was hot and spicy.

Let's just say my maternity panties erred on the side of fullest-coverage-you-can-muster-with-out-being-a-wet-suit and Zo was just singing her little song about fancy pants undies in her line of vision.

We did get a little nervous, however when a few weeks later a young waitress bent down near our table and Zo reached out, touched her lower back, complete with a tattoo and thong strap, and said, "Oooooh. Hot and SPICY"!

The good news? Zo earned herself a free kids meal.

The bad news? Every time we ate at the local haunt we heard, "that's the hot and spicy kid", so it's now out of our rotation.

If Zo wants that reputation, it isn't going to be before she hits three years old.