My post on initials got me thinking about terms of endearment. Okay, it wasn't the post, it was actually that a homeless, lesbian called me her "boo" yesterday. I had a momentary moment (that is so redundant, I'm too lazy to care today) of joy thinking I knew her and she knew I called my cat "Boo" (as in short for Peek-a-Boo). I rarely call men I date by a term of endearment...jokingly sometimes hot lips or hot stuff, depending upon how much of an ego boost they appear to need. What's odd (or scary, same thing) I realized I have several "pet" names for my dog (oooooh fun pun there I just created). I call him pumpkin, lover, boyfriend, baby cakes, sweetie pie, and the embaressing list goes on and on.
I use goober more than any other loving words. Not sure what that says about me other than I'm still living from the 3rd grade.
Today I'm grateful for Perrier, steam rooms, and looking in the rearview mirror and seeing Taz's ears.
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