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?
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?
Labels: Kids, Motherhood, Myself
3 Comments:
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.
Just... don't call me honey. 'K?
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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