Sinking to a new low

I was in the kitchen this morning, washing out the big cooler in preparation for going to the swim club's day long Fourth of July festivities, when I saw Hershey standing there at my feet, looking up at me with his beady eyes.

"Whatcha doin', Mama?" he indicated with his perked up ears and his tail.

"I'm cleaning out the cooler so that Daddy can put some ice in it," I said. "And what are you doing? Are you standing there being Mommy's Little Angel Sugar? Is that what you're doing right now? Just being Mommy's Angel Sugar baby boy? Hmm?"

He indicated that he was, indeed, standing there being Mommy's Angel Sugar by butting me in the knees with his head, which is his ultimate sign of adoration. Then I turned around and saw Aisling standing in the doorway, looking at me as if I'd lost whatever remains of my mind after two kids and sixteen years of marriage.

"Mommy's Angel Sugar?" she silently mouthed, looking at me with raised brows and wide eyes, and turned and walked out of the room.

"Well, yeah!" I yelled defensively at her retreating back. "But I used to call you Mommy's Little Pink Plumpy Butt, so there!"