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Dorothy and the 5 Little Red Hot Chili Peppers

Dorothy and the 5 Little Red Hot Chili Peppers

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Okay, so neither Dorothy (a.k.a. Mom) or I ate red hot chili peppers on Tuesday for lunch. But Mom reminds me often that The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew was her favorite book as a child, so I threw that in. The “red hot” bit just sounded good, so I threw it in, too. But, we did eat at Chili’s, and the weather was hot. So hot that Dorothy, in an impressive break from tradition, ordered iced tea instead of coffee.

Yes, it was that hot.

It was so hot that young moms galore, along with their young mom BFFs, and the small fry that made them moms decided to eat lunch at Chilis. As did some families with two parents accompanying their kids and a few grandparents with little shavers in tow.

That made for a plethora of children.

Beautiful children, all with summer tans and sun-streaked hair. All wearing bright sun dresses or bright, baggy shorts and tank tops, sporting flip-flops, sun glasses, colorful hair ribbons, and gap-toothed grins.

They were well-behaved, too.

I’m not kidding. Mom and I both remarked upon how well the children listened, stayed in their seats, and talked quietly. At least as quiet as kids can talk, that is. We also remarked upon how we weren’t the only ones who decided to beat the heat at Chili’s.

“And the food’s good, too,” Mom said.

Then we eavesdropped on the people in the next booth. “Keep your coupons,” the waitress told the young mom and her young mom BFF. “Today, kids eat free.” The moms tucked the coupons back into their purses while a light bulb appeared over Mom’s head.

“That’s why there are so many kids here,” she said. “KIds eat free.”

Just then the waitress came by with our bill. Mom examined the slip of paper, sighed deeply (as she does every time forking over money is required), and counted out her money. Soon after, we stood to leave. On the way out, Mom actually went a few steps out of her way to address the hostess. “Ma’am,” she said sweetly. “Do kids eat free today?” The waitress nodded. Mom pointed at me.

“She’s my kid.”

The hostess stood, open-mouthed and staring, as Mom smiled innocently. She walked slowly to the door, which I held open. She looked at me and winked. “Well,” she explained with a shrug and a twinkle. “It was my money. It was worth a try.”

Gotta love that woman.