Wednesday, April 04, 2007
God Help My Children
These are the words that come out of my mouth countless times on a daily basis:

Referring to The Boss: Bud, Bubba Ganoosh, Monkey, Monk, Babes, Xan the Man, Man with the plan (His list has shortened with age. When he was an infant he was referred to in typical mommy-infant babble, the most prominent one being: Bugaboo, and yes, there was a song written around this pet name.)

Referring to Little Miss Lila (pronounced, Lie-lah, just in case there was ever any confusion. I've been told that it looks like Lee-lah):

We start off ok - mostly phrases revolving around her name: Lila Bean, Lila Loo, Lady Lila

However, this deteriorates into what can only be described as nonsensical chatter: Lady Cakes, Baby Cakes, Boogie Baby, Booga Shuga

Then my poor husband gets home and I have to restrain myself from showering him with such verbal clatter. It's difficult and I don't always catch myself before dropping a sing-songy Vinnie Voo.

This doesn't seem to bother him (much), although he does ask that I restrain from attacking him with tickling him in the same goofy manner that I do The Boss. Apparently having your wife come at you wide-eyed with a huge smile and exclaiming "I got-choo!" while poking her fingers under your armpits is a turnoff.

Who knew?

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3 Comments:

Blogger LJ said...

When you get to the point where, riding in a car with only adults, you suddenly say (beaming with joy) "Look!! TRAIN!" let me know. I'll fly there and try to deprogram you.

Blogger zhoen said...

Just... don't call me honey. 'K?

Blogger Novice said...

Ugh. I know where you're coming from. I call my husband Babe or Beloved, and I call my son Baby or Buddy (among other things). The other day I said "Thanks, Buddy." to my husband. He looked at me and said "Uh...no problem, Dude."

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