Story of Our Names

You may be wondering why I call myself Weasel - don't worry, most people (who aren't family or close friends) do. In fact, it's a pretty simple story.

When I was very little and my parents were trying to teach me to say my own name, all they could coax out of me was "weasel". At the time it was as close as I could get to my real name. I've always remembered this story and after I met my to-be husband related it to him. He found this highly entertaining, and at some point, started calling me Weasel. It stuck. He almost exclusively refers to me as such. In fact, if he does call me by my real name, I know I'm in trouble. Being ridiculous and crazy as we are, as one usually becomes when trapped in a truck for months at a time, I've adopted the persona of a weasel. As far as I'm concerned...I am a weasel. I don't expect you to understand: just embrace it. I Am Weasel.

And then there is my husband, Dan, whom I almost never call Dan unless he's in trouble. Instead, I call him any variation of the word "fluff": Fluff Ball, Fluffa, Fluffy Pants, Senor Fluffy Pants, Fluffaluffa, and so on and so forth. I can only guess that this endearing term was born of the fact that he has an incredible, fluffy beard. But, honestly, I've been calling him Fluff for so long I entirely remember why I started.

Thusly, is how we came to be Fluffball and Weasel. And yes, we do call each other by these names all the time, even in public. It's true love.