Thomas Dolby – Hot Sauce

It happened again. Rubbed my eye after handling hot peppers. A jar of jalapenos just fell out of the fridge and splashed all over the floor. Now the whole kitchen smells like vinegar and my eye is on fire.

You’d think I would have learned by now.

It’s part of the reason I call my wife “my hussy” as a term of endearment. She thinks it’s hilarious, as do I – Victorian insults, LOL.

It’s mostly in-joke, pillow talk material. Not as amusing without the backstory.

We were at our workplaces, texting/sexting/flirting after our second date. Somehow the subject of chili peppers came up. I told her about the spicy stir fry I’d made the night before. I love peppers. She does not.

I mentioned the part I don’t enjoy: burning the shit out of my eye after cutting jalapenos.

“You don’t want that getting on your fingers if you’re planning to have sex.” She told me how bad it hurt when she accidentally got some of that on her bits.

“Like last night,” I said.

“I didn’t have sex last night…” sounding concerned.

“That’s good you hussy!” said. “I was talking about my eye. I got pepper in my eye last night.”

I really had gotten pepper in my eye. And I wasn’t a bit worried.

That was over a decade ago and we still get tickled when we use that word. She’s my hussy and I’m proud to be hers.