Ruby Regina Witcraft
I can’t imagine, in my wildest imaginings, what has happened between childhood and aged but everyone is calling me “Sweetie” nowadays.
As a child, it used to be “Rusty” because I was so tan and “Rhubarb” because I loved the stuff; and would often be seen chewing on a spear of the stuff. These days, I get “Dearie” now and then. Having always been a “Tom Boy,” girl and lady this seems to be, not insulting or annoying but just different. Even, “Hey you” used to work for me back in the day.
My husband used to call me, “Sweetums” and other endearing names that shall not be mentioned at this time but never, “Sweetie.” My handy man, whom I have known for 27 years just left and, as he closed the door said, “See you later, Sweetie.” I never know what my reply should be. I almost said, “Right back at you,” but was afraid it might be too inviting. Not wanting to start anything I couldn’t handle at this age, I mumbled something like, “Uh Huh.” Which wasn’t too bright but definitely safe.
I sometimes get, “Dearie” as someone takes my arm while crossing the street. This is very thoughtful but, unless I have been drinking, neither the gesture nor the appellation is necessary. I try not to wobble or stagger at this time but what the heck is happening?
Thanks to swimming, I am not stooped shouldered. I am not gray headed, thanks to Clairol. Well, I am, but I make it a point to never let it show. I don’t slobber or slur my words. Don’t have false teeth that fall out when laughing. I am getting forgetful but hope it isn’t obvious when I call my best friend, “Sasha;” when her name isn’t even close to that. She may be insulted because “Sasha” is her dog’s name. She just shakes her head but, even with that affront, she never calls me “Sweetie,” when she corrects me. She does give me that, “What the heck is wrong with you look.” I just ask, “What would you rather be called?”
I guess worse things could happen as years go by but I am looking forward to being called, “Sweetie” for a long, long time.