T.S.I.G.

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Our power went out last night, and it’s been a sweaty, hot, miserable day without the air conditioning. The heat brought memories of growing up on the old house on Westwood Lane in Brandon, Florida, without air conditioning.  Trying to sleep with even a fan on full blowing on you was difficult.  Sweating was a given…no matter what you were doing.

The heat made me think of something Mom told me…the story of T.S.I.G.  Each time it would get hot at our house in Florida, Mom would say, “It’s hot as T.S.I.G!” She told me that the phrase came from a long-ago experience…the child of an Army colleague in Germany had heard his parents say “Hot as shit!”, but spelling it out, for a long time….and then the Army party came, and the child shared his comprehension of the phrase…”It’s hot as T.S.I.G.!” Each time I feel the heat, I feel the gratitude for the funny story told to me by my mother.  And it definitely is hot as T.S.I.G.  No lie.

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