I need to write about something normal for a bit. I strangely feel guilty about that, but here goes…
As I’ve mentioned, due to local current events, there has been a whole lot of extra togetherness lately. It hasn’t necessarily been the good kind of togetherness, such as a fun family road trip or one of those times when everyone, large and small, is actually well-behaved, at peace, and not deliberately irritating the living shit out of each other. It has been gritted-teeth, don’t touch me, don’t you want to visit Siberia togetherness. A lot of it. A. Whole. Lot.
I noticed last night that I was referring to members of my family as “honey” a lot. This is not normal for me, as I’m not a gum-chewing waitress with a beehive on an old sitcom. Sure, I have pet names for my people. But this “honey” was not family-member-specific.
I was using it most often with Will and Stella. I was doing it so much that on a couple of occasions Stella asked which “honey” I was referring to: her or daddy.
Extended togetherness such as we’ve experienced lately can result in epiphanies. I’ve had one. Out of our family, Will and Stella are probably the two most provocative. That’s not to say I don’t have days when I’m downright bitchy and spoiling for a fight, or that Felix never goes up to his sister and wallops her on the head for no apparent reason. But Will and Stella have this certain je ne sais quoi which causes them to piss with people. I don’t even think they know they’re doing it. Maybe it’s the ADHD and they’re bored. Regardless, it’s earned them the shared title of “honey.”
Maybe it’s a southern thing, like our infamous “bless your/his/her heart,” which often means “you’re so f’ing stupid and pathetic I honestly don’t know how you manage to chew your food and see at the same time.” We need some space. Honey needs to go.
Bless my heart. I need a vacation.