The name change

Time for a quick re-introduction.
We all know baby Buttercup. And I have mentioned Mr. L, of course. But I'll be honest: I've never really liked the nickname. It just happened because I couldn't think of anything else.
Until now.
The funny thing is that I have called him this for years due to his insane need (and even curiouser frequency) to be right in everything he ever says, does, breathes, is. Even more, he has to be more...more than you, more than me. Some would call it ego. But once you meet him, you quietly acknowledge that it...just...is.
And just by being, breathing, he makes those around him feel safe, secure, loved, protected.
It's a presence. It's a fact. It's a total pain in the ass.
So I began calling him an "ER" when we would argue. As in "tallER," "RightER," "loudER," nicER," "AnnoyingER," "and "sweetER," even.
Instead of calling him something more colorful when we argue and he won't let me get a word in edgewise, I sometimes revert to saying, out of sheer frustration with the fact that by trying to argue I am, in fact, banging my head into a brick wall, "Don't be such an ER!"
Then I stomp off, pissed off. And he follows me laughing.
So ladies, moms, friends, family, blog land, meet Sweeter.
My husband.
Redefined.