I have some pretty sappy (maybe a little lame haha) nicknames for my wife. Usually, she’s so damn cute its just hard not to come up with this stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever said any of them in front of anyone else besides Cali. So Samm, if you are reading this, don’t kill me. The first one I ever came up with was Carebear. It was pretty fitting. She used to constantly be doing things for others that were less fortunate, going through a hard time, or just needed a smile. We couldn’t go past that corner on Perry and Highway 98 without her feeding the bums or handing them some change. The next one was Samoth, when I started getting her into the more extreme metal music out of Scandinavia. The last two are hands down the most disgustingly mooshy ones of all time. And I swear I call her them regularly. Apple Jack, and Mocha Sunshine. Yep. The long haired, viking beard, tattooed version of me calling her on the phone and dropping one of those names.
I came home late today, well after dark. She has been at work for almost 7 hours, working on the back porch and the temperatures have been in the high 90s. But I walked in the door and the entire house was clean. Like it looked like a bomb went off in here when I left for work this morning, and she was pretty busy this afternoon. So I guess it goes back to what I hit on a few days ago: I just like feeling reassured that she’s “back”. She’s home. I just want to feel normal, and coming home to a nice clean house like things used to be is a beautiful thing. So the next grande soy iced coffee with caramel is on me, babe.