Tonight I was called "Chewbacca" by a 2-year-old. My husband has found great joy in this. Earlier today, he had made a comment stating that I had a hairy back. Now, whereas I know this is untrue and that he was just tyring to tease me, being called Chewy tonight by a toddler has made me reconsider laser surgery. (Ok, so perhaps this child IS obsessed with Star Wars, according to his mother, and the name Shivonne is rather difficult to say... AND he did call Pat a Storm Trooper.... so I guess I can't be THAT offended.) Needless to say, my hubby has relished in calling me Chewbacca all night, and I don't forsee this ending in the near future. I'm just glad this didn't happen before our wedding 8 months ago. "I, Storm Trooper, take thee, Chewbacca, to be my lawfully wedded Star Wars character...." Even though the kid was highly offensive, he was so cute that I couldn't be angry. There's something about they way he lisped my new nickname that made it rather endearing. Unfortunately, my husband lacks the same childish quality when he mimics the boy. (Not to say that he isn't childish, but there's something a bit off when a large man with a deep voice and gottee tries to make a funny, opposed to a mere baby.) Im just sorry I couln't be Princess Leah. Afterall, those side buns are pretty amazing and I'd much rather be known for her cute ensemble than a dark, hairy rug. But, as we know, children say it like it is. I guess it's time for a good waxing!