>Don’t stop, git it git it.

My name is ZaDough. That’s what my husband calls me. Or “za”, or “dough”. I’ve come to respond to any and all. Below I shall attempt to illustrate the evolutionary process of my ‘name’:

1. Babydoll
2. The Babydoll
3. Za Babydoll
4. Za Babydough
5. ZaDough
6. “Za” or “Dough”.

I like things simple. He’s “Schweets” or “hun”.

To see what we did with our children’s (dogs) names, see blog entry “Wednesday, August 17, 2005”.

After 9.3 years of marriage and 9.3 years of never being called by my proper name, on the random, odd occasions when he does use my proper name, it sounds off; rude, even. We have forgotten what each others’ names really are. Although, thanks to being a Navy wife for the first few months of our marriage, I could rattle off his social security number if you asked. But I won’t.

Oh, my..there do be de pettyest pettyest rose-colored sunset ever. I love being able to see Mt. Si from our back balcony. It is stellar.

I love jumping out of an extra-hot bathtub…you get all noodle-y.

You empty-headed animal-food-trough-water-er; go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person! Your mother was a hamster, and you father smelt of elderberries!!!!

Voulez-voulez-vous elderberries.