Porsche Guy has come up with a doozy of a pet name for me. It’s – um – rather unusual. I’ve certainly never heard of this particular word as a pet name before. PG is quite proud of that.
It came up one day when we were having a more-intense-than-usual discussion. I don’t even remember what it was about. But he wasn’t listening to my intelligent, well-thought-out, SANE point of view. So I kept interrupting him to remind him that he was wrong and I was, obviously, right.
PG eventually fell silent. So did I. Then he said, in an exasperated tone, “Donkey!”
“Donkey? What exactly do you mean by that?” I sputtered.
“You’re like a donkey!” he returned sharply.
“How am I a donkey?” I questioned. I was thinking that he thought I was either slow-witted or an ass. Neither prospect was enticing, I must say.
“Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word,” PG mused. “What I meant was that you’re stubborn. So maybe mule is a better word.”
That’s when I started to laugh. “So instead of mule, you call me a donkey?”
“Yeah, but I said it with lilt in my voice. It’s a pet name!” he said defensively.
“Donkey is NOT a pet name! Nobody gets called donkey affectionately!”
“Sure they do. There’s Donkey in Shrek …”
I laughed more. “That’s his NAME because he IS a donkey! It’s not a pet name!”
PG was laughing as much as me by this point. “But it could be. You like donkeys, they’re cute – why wouldn’t you want to be called Donkey?”
“Because it’s not a real pet name!”
“It is now. Donkey.”
Hee haw.
Thank you, 
Thank you, Fhina, at 