I knew that Bud and I had a thing with words, but I didn't realize the extent to which my husband shares it.
One morning this week I was standing in the kitchen making Bud's breakfast when my husband entered the room and greeted me with a hearty "Thabosefolosha!"
"What?" I asked.
"Thabosefolosha!" he repeated.
Uh-oh, I thought, recognizing the tell-tale signs. "What is that?"
"Who. Thabo Sefolosha. He plays for the NBA. I can't stop saying his name. Thabo Sefolosha. Isn't it great?"
And that was that. I've been Thabosefoloshing ever since.
I imagine that if the government had an illegal wiretap monitoring conversations in our house they'd suspect they'd stumbled on to some sort of code-speaking sleeper cell when they heard the kinds of things we walk around saying:
But our Blogosphere friends know the truth. We are not part of a terrorist network.
We are from France.