So, I went to go take a shower (or perhaps a nice long, hot, lavender scented bubble bath-because I'm stone cold butch like that) and I found this wonderfully expressive note perched on the faucet handle.
The thing I had to ask myself, besides, "I'm hungry. I wonder if we have any buttery toast bacon crackers?" was, "How did our humble beginnings of 'baby' and 'honey' evolve into such an exhaustively thorough and mouth-watering terms of endearment exchange?"
Some might even argue that my girlfriend and I have become a little competitive with our pet names for each other.
Almost as if it were some kind of....contest...
Why do I say, "contest" might you ask?
Because...not that I want to generalize (yes I do), but as a group, lesbians seem to have a few 'issues' with competitiveness. At our Super Bowl parties we often have more gear on than the players do-to protect ourselves from each other. Things can abruptly spin out of control, and we (as a people) are aware of the potential for rapid escalation.
In this case, things had started sweetly and innocently enough.
You know, I was her "little love chops," or her "cookie pie," or "kitten toes." I was even her, "squiggly love cakes." And, in turn, she was my "little snuggly bear," or my "fluff muffin," or "nectar niblets." At the VERY most she was my, "soft skinned huggy bunches."
Before long, "kitten toes" turned into "pumpkin slippers." And then, all hell broke loose.
Before long, I got THIS:
"Good morning, puppy whiskers! You're beautiful when you sleep..and when you're awake, and when you're a little tired but not yet ready to sleep, and you're also beautiful when you're waking up but not yet wide awake...I just love you my sexy skittle knees."
So she got THIS:
"Thank you my little honey shorts hamster dumpling. I can't wait to achieve new heights of co-dependence with you. The future is our to bake together, you hot basket of syrup socks."
And it was ON...like an affectionately impaired psychotic Donkey Kong.
At this point, I have been:
Dimple waffle sugar knickers.
Tootsie sprinkle shoulders.
Silly monkfruit cuttlefish.
Sponge pudding baby turtle monkey.
Fuzzy doodle drumstick butter opossum.
I called her out on the opossum one.
"You probably say that to all the girls, my creamy dollop of fluff munchies." (The 'fuzzy doodle drumstick butter opossum' term of endearment is SO overused).
"My creamy dollop is for you only, my teensy, wombat, pancake cricket...and I'd never share my fluff munchies with anyone, lemon pie honey squares! Never!!"
I must admit, I was nearly rendered speechless with that last one.
I managed to refer to her as my "amorous agave ankles," and my, "stevia snuggly squirrel shins" before I ran out of cute animals, sweeteners, and body parts.
Fortunately, my friend (I will refer to him here is Duane, mostly because his name is Duane) tried an intervention...
"Couldn't you PLEASE put some healthier food references in with the 'snicker doodle lemon honey fluffy truffle' stuff? I'm gaining weight and you're making me hungrier. Maybe some, 'basil pepper stuffed snapper?'"
Well, my girlfriend totally suited up for THIS suggestion:
"My dearest savory hummus bundle, let's take a long and exhilarating walk to Trader Joe's, hand in hand my little carrot crunch bits, where we will purchase organic love morsels and other foods that are healthy and less fattening, and also gluten-free...ooh yeah, my sexy svelte buff jungle...ooh, yeah..."
I've been severely constrained by the healthier parameters.
It's very hard to make the word "legume" sound romantic. She's my "lovely love lentil." But, that's all I've got.
I feel defeated. Deflated. Struggling with existential angst, and a mild headache. Plus, I'm having vivid dreams about gerbils and cilantro-lime brown rice.
So, yeah...I'm thinking this all might have a slight element of competitiveness to it.
She just referred to me yesterday as her, "baby cactus smooshy stop sign frog legs."
Granted, my girlfriend would be the first to characterize her inner-most nature as one of cooperation and peace-loving pacifism. I mean, she used to be an activist, for goodness sakes.
"My anti-war peace sign placard is bigger than your anti-war peace sign placard."
"Shut up, or I will cut you."
Hahaha! Just kidding, honey! Don't hurt me!
My itsy bitsy, sweet, yummy, ferret-nose, wispy nipple curd lips!
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