Like many writers here at OS, my SO serves as a frequent muse in my posts. The fearless taster of my kitchen experiments. The occasional though forgiving butt of my jokes. The enduring love of my life.
Usually he appears as 'my husband' – a most uninspired reference. He has also played the part of 'the chef', 'the bug killer', and 'the problem solver.' We complement each other rather than complete each other. I can live without him – I have before, but I choose not to because, simply put, my life is better when he’s in it, regardless of the role he plays.
I hardly do my husband justice by using such a possessive, unimaginative, nondescript phrase considering all that he symbolizes in my world. It doesn’t honor him the way that I want to given his willingness to serve as my muse, which we all know sometimes means that he will be cast in a, ahem, less than favorable light.
In real life my husband is:
A structural engineer who dreams of dropping out and buying a farm.
My biggest fan.
A pizza lover.
A tree lover.
A bird watcher.
A Sox fan.
A Bears fan.
I have countless nicknames for him, some public, and most private.
Smokey the Bear
I have a few more that are too cutesy to list (yes, worse than Sweet Pea). I’ll spare you the nauseous feeling they might induce. Others are too personal. So I'll spare him the additional embarrassment. (Alas, there are some subjects too private for OS.)
My husband is certainly multi-faceted, multi-talented, etc., but as I look at the lists of aliases and descriptors above, it seems a bit schizophrenic. I want an apt, reverent moniker for him that I can use consistently.
Here at OS, Jodi Kasten has 'The Man' – ah, the sense of virility in her use of the caps.
And The Squirrel has the 'Wifosaurus', consistent though perhaps not as reverent.
In the spirit of my OS compatriots, I’ve considered the following:
My Love. But sometimes, well, sometimes I feel compelled to write things about him when I’m not feeling the Love.
Very Significant Other. VSO? No, I’ve never liked the SO reference.
Home Skillet? We’re just not that hip.
The Hubs? Hubster? Spousalator? Ick, dear god, make it stop.
MJ had the PYT to the Pretty Young Thing. HMAT to the Handsome Middle-Aged Thing? It just isn’t as catchy.
Slam Piece takes me back a decade or two, and I suspect he would like the implication of being a sex object (Now, that’s a better meaning of SO!), but when I’m writing those fortunately infrequent pieces on how I’ve been wronged by my husband, suffice to say I’m certainly not entertaining thoughts of slamming my HMAT.
Let's review the lists again.
… Tree lover,
Bird? Bird. Yes, yes, Bird!
Birds can sing so softly and sweetly.
Birds can crow and squawk incessantly.
They establish and defend their territory against other males in their species.
Like humans, many birds are monogamous. (Fingers crossed for my Bird and I.)
And sometimes birds shit on you without meaning to.
It doesn’t mean they don’t love you.
So, from this day forward I am married to, loved by, devoted to, supported by, enthralled with, telling my darkest secrets to, inspired by, still attracted to, and happy to share my bed with Bird.