D Is For Duckie

Like most married folks I’ve known, my wife and I have pet names for each other. Before we were dating, when a coworker of particularly odd humor kept bringing her incredibly ugly stuffed ducks to use as decorations at her desk, I took to calling her “Duckie” and ultimately it stuck (though sometimes it is shortened to just “Duck”). Partly it was reinforced by my quoting a certain song sung by a muppet to his beloved bathtime companion as my way of saying “I love you” before we had quite reached the point of no return in using the “L” word.

We have continued to to run with the duck thing ever since, and given that our house is otherwise filled with birds, it makes a certain sense. Her pet name for me, which I choose not to reveal out of macho pride, is also animal-based, but not of an avian flavor. Let’s just say we make a great team come Easter.

The story of how the Duck and I went from befuddled to betrothed is an epic I do not seek to cover in this forum or at this moment. But it’s a great story involving a team of conscripted code breakers, St. Patrick’s Day, and the Red Elvises. Catch me over a beer sometime when you’re curious and I’ll regale you with the whole delightful tale.

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