Wednesday, May 20, 2015

I have read that Jews and Muslims have nine hundred names for God.  It seems that one small word is not enough.  I am guilty of calling my loved ones by more than one name.

First born daughter – Adrienne

Addi, Addibeth, Addi the Baddy, Adley, Ageretum, the Bear (I made up a song for this name and we still sing it every once in a while), Princess, Sally Sunshine (I called her this while pregnant) Poop Butt (which I wrote a ditty and sang it to her when I changed her diaper)

Second born daughter – Jessica

Nathan (she was supposed to be a boy), Ca, Jessa, Jessaleigh, Baby Applesauce (Addi called her this while I was pregnant), Punkin, Punkin Head, Chunk Jess, CJ, Clunkhead, anything but Jessie

My dog – Jessie

Jessie dot calm, Jestie McFerbish, Jesticulata, Boogernose, Puppy

The Hubster – Rick
Richie, the hubster, Ferb

My mother – Belle

Uncle Charley (I watched My Three Sons and was pissed that I didn’t have an Uncle Charley), Mother

Myself – Wilma

Wimla, Woehema, Wilmarea, Asshole, Ferb

So I don’t have nine hundred names but I think I did a pretty good job of making up more names for my beloveds.

This is a photo of my beloved Jessie dog.  This was at Christmas and we have a Faerber family tradition (the girls hate it) that I give everyone one of dad's old underwear elastics. Hey, I washed them!   I know it's stupid but it is a tradition.  We generally have rubber band fights with them.  Go make up your own tradition.

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