Texting Dirty

Scenario:
Couch.
In front of fireplace.
Seating positions are (left to right) Chad, me, Zoe
End table holding numerous magazines and my iPhone at right end of couch, nearest Zoe.
Nighttime.
7:15pm.
Tuesday.

Conversation:
Chad -"hey, I heard Sid's wife died.  Sandy said it was in the newspaper."
Me- "let me grab my phone to check the H&R app and the obituaries."
Leaning over Zoe to get the phone.  She's really into RuPaul's Drag Race and not into Chad and I's conversation. 
Zoe- "are you going to text dirty?"
Me- "WHAT?!"
Zoe- "are you going to text dirty now?"
Me- "Who told you about that?!  What are you learning at that school playground after lunch?!"
This last phrase was screeched out in a high pitched warble sounding similar to an oId woman yelling at the busboy because she thought he was the waiter ignoring her.
I  was beyond words.
I also kept thinking, but didn't say so, "why would I be texting dirty if your father was right next to me?  I can just talk dirty in his ear."

Then Chad said the answer to the riddle I was under attack by.
"Mark.  She wants to know if you are going to text Mark." 

Sequel:
Dirty equals my friend from high school Mark.
It's his nickname. 
She was asking if I was going to text him.
If I was going to text Dirty.
We were meeting up with him in Springfield the following day.
Whew.
Me- "No!"
Chad and I had tears flowing from the laughter of my stupidity.
Me- "I thought you were talking about sexting!"
Zoe- "What's that?"
Never.
You.
Mind.
Kid.