I’ve developed a habit of calling Dominic by whatever little term of endearment pops into my head at the time. They fall into a predictable pattern of two-word phrases, usually something like “sweet cheeks”, “honey muffin”, or “sugar pie.” I literally have no idea what particular combination I’ll come out with, though, until just before I say it.
Usually that’s no problem, except when I’m extremely tired. Last week, I startled myself with “sugar pants,” which made me laugh. But yesterday, in a moment of supreme exhaustion and absentmindedness, I came out with a real doozie.
I called my baby “muffin pan.”