Honey

I was thinking about my brothers this morning. Actually, one in particular. This is the brother that is closest in age to me.


I've mentioned before that I am the last of five kids, and the only girl. He he he. I'm telling! You are going to be in so much trouble! Yeah, that was me. But hey, they deserved it. Sometime I'll share what tortuous, teasing brothers they were! Hmph!

Anywhoo, when he was barely 20, and we lived quite a ways from him in another state, I started getting letters mentioning this girl, Marcia. I think they went to school together as well. Hers was a family that actually had fun together, got together for picnics on the weekends, and welcomed him with open arms. I was always so happy that he found his "family."

So years go by, they get married, and along comes Nick. So cute, so quiet, and absolutely adored by his parents. Our family is not prone to getting together on any kind of regular basis, but maybe once a year we'd see each other. Sometimes not that often.

Years go by and "all of a sudden" Nick is a teenager. We all had gone out to lunch and were talking, catching up. He turned to his father and said, "Honey, what are you going to have?" HOW CUTE IS THAT? Melted my heart on the spot. My brother and his wife don't call each other by terms of endearment. They are wisecracking, funny people. I guess that's what struck me so about what he said.

I've always been kind of curious about why he called his Dad honey that day, but I'm afraid it would be a joke or something and I prefer the thought of him just saying it because he loved him.