I am not a pie person. Given a choice for a sweet dessert, I will always select the chocolatey, fudgy option. And I certainly wouldn’t say I’m a “foodie.” Yet pies and foods are an important part of the way I show affection to my loved ones.
I never made a conscious decision about the nicknames or terms of endearment I would use when referring to my son and husband. However, over time certain names have made it to my daily rotation, and I’ve realized that many of them are food-related.
My son, Ryan, is my only child and thus receives Mommy’s full attention and affection. Objectively, he is a good boy -- he does not climb over the booths at a local restaurant, doesn’t run and scream down the hall in a museum, has never attempted to draw on our walls or eat the dirt from our houseplants. He is a curious child, an avid reader; he is musical and playful. He is my “angel pie” and my “sweet pea.”
Ryan is also known in our home by two rather unconventional nicknames. One is “tushie pop;” a name I don’t know how I invented or why. I just know that my son’s bottom is soft, and a baby’s bare bottom, when clean and poop-free, is a sweet place to kiss.
Ryan’s other nickname is “farfalle.” Technically, farfalle are bow-shaped pasta noodles. Yet, when talking with my mom about my son’s latest adventures, I often begin the conversation with “Farfalle just ...”
My husband, on the other hand, is another story. I rarely call him “Paul.” Paul is the name anyone can use: his parents, his boss, his customers. In our home, my husband is “honey pie” as in “Honey pie, did you reschedule your dentist appointment?” Early in our relationship, we never had a conversation about nicknames; they just happened to evolve.
It’s interesting to stop and consider the ways we show and express love and affection to those closest to us. Often times, there is no logic or set reasoning to explain a certain nickname or special good-night ritual. But, as with love, logic doesn’t always factor into the equation. Love just is.