I have always been one of those people that use colloquialisms when interacting with people, whether I know them or not. Possibly I was influenced by the times and places in which I grew up. The 60’s and 70’s combined the entire spectrum of good and evil. The horrors of the Vietnam War, assassinations, civil rights riots were in stark contrast to the free-loving hippie lifestyle that was extremely prevalent on my island home.
Starting around 12 years old, my group of friends loved embroidering our jeans with brightly colored flowers and making leather and beaded necklaces. These were to wear as we handed out flowers to strangers at the park while spouting the hippie mantras of peace and love. This band of loving friends even gifted each other with new monickers such as Sunshine (me), Rainbow, Sparrow, and Cloud. Thanks to Facebook we have all had some good laughs about this time in our youth.
Over the years I had pet names for boyfriends like Binky, Baby Doll – well the list goes on and on. When you are 60, there tends to be quite a head count of suitors, all given unique call signs. Come on – no judgment, please.
I can guarantee that if we have ever made contact, I have given one to you. Kiddo, Sweetie, Honey…
Recently I spent some wonderful time with my 3-year-old grandson Ezra. During a conversation I endearingly said, “Hey, Buddy – I love you!”Looking completely concerned about my mental capacity, he informed me that his name was Ezra, not Buddy. Oh, and that I was really silly.
