Yesterday was Grey Cup Sunday, for those of you south of the border, that's kind of like the Super Bowl, and Dan and Jessie had a special football meal planned that included lots of meatballs and grape jelly. I was busy working to a deadline, but I did (again, MoM . . . maker of miracles) volunteer to 1) get Drummer Boy over here to watch the game with us, and 2) make chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter icing (and you wonder why I might have to Tell the Truth About Food?!).
It turns out that number #1 (DB) completely obliviated (I know its not a word, but it makes sense to me) the need for #2 (cupcakes), as their terms of endearment for each other kept coming fast and furious and out-sweetened just about anything I could have come up with for dessert.
I asked them if they minded sharing the variations with me (I try to leave the room when they are talking to each other on the phone or in person, as I am sure I would go into insulin shock) or with any possible readers out there. They got gigglier and gigglier as the list rolled out, laughing as they recalled when they used each endearment. It was almost a travel log of their romantic encounters ... from the boot room where they met to the board room where they advocated together for employment opportunities for people with intellectual disabilities just last week.
Here they are: I dare you not to gag. They include (in no particular order, and I have thrown a few non-food related items in there, but there were very few)
my sweet apricot
Most of those came from DB. When I was driving home he admitted, with a grin and a very endearing giggle, that he loves to call her those sweet names to make her giggle.
I have to remember to take my antacid and give thanks for weight-lifting boyfriends with a penchant for advocacy and endearments.
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