Well, here are the promised results of the little experiment I conducted yesterday morning. (If you haven't read yesterday's post, "Terms of Endearment," you might want to, or this one won't make much sense.)
After I published my blog post, I went upstairs to see what my beloved was up to. He was in our bedroom, getting ready to change out of his jammies into gym shorts and an Under Armor muscle shirt so that he could start his daily P90X work-out (or as I like to think of it, the "gun show").
"How's my main squeeze doin' today?" I asked, just as sweet as pie.
He did not joke around and say, "Hey, wait a minute! I'm only your main squeeze? How many other squeezes do you have, anyway?"--as I thought he might. No, he simply smiled that killer smile that has melted this heart of mine since I was a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl.
I know I said yesterday that I would be a bit disappointed if he didn't come back with a teasing retort when I used this unfamiliar term of endearment, but I've changed my mind. He's a better man than I (well, you know what I mean), because although he can tease with the best of them, and the two of us love to make each other laugh, my husband can be a big old marshmallow--a really romantic guy--when it comes to his "best girl."
I think I'll keep him.