There are times where one must leave the hubby in charge.  But, inevitably that means that some learned behavior is going to have to be eradicated.  Spicy Girls love of Farmville was the result of an afternoon with Daddy when Mommy went to get a mani-pedi.  Her ability to sing the latest Lady Gaga tune came after a Saturday morning drive with Daddy listening to the latest pop music count down in between errands.   These may not seem like that big a deal, but the track record of Daddy-inspired behaviors is not without grounds.

The latest behavior, however, is really not something I ever expected.  I mean, it isn’t even something that Daddy does very often, and when he does it, it’s very discreet.  So, imagine my surprise when, after enjoying some alone time to run errands I came home to find my little Spicy Girl hocking a loogie like it was her damn job.

“Um, honey.  Can we chat?”  I said to the hubby who just high-fived Spicy Girl and praised her spitting ability.

“Yup.  What do you need?”

“What the hell was that?”

“She’s been coughing all week, and she really needed to get the phlegm up, so I taught her how to spit.”

“Really? That’s great.  When is the butt scratching lesson going to be?”

“Honey, you know, sometimes you just need to hock one up.”

In the days that followed, I shared this “milestone” with friends. Some parents, some not.  Some men, and some women.  This discussion definitely leaned according to gender lines.  For the most part, women were appalled.  Some so much that it seems that I’ve been “unfriended” by at least three of them on Facebook in an effort not to expose their dainty daughters to my spitting Spicy Girl.

The men on the other hand were un-phased and several wanted to ask the hubby his methodology in teaching such a skill.  “I mean, c’mon, Laura – sometimes you just have to hock one up.”   One friend said.  As if my husband was the puppeteer and he was the dummy.

So where have I landed on the issue? Well, let’s just say I’m so mad, I could spit.