It\u2019s a full circle. Like a lot of things in life. When you\u2019re a little kid, just graduated from toddlerhood, you become \u201cHoney.\u201d \u201cHello there Honey; aren\u2019t you a big boy. How old are you?\u201d At the end of the circle, when you are an old coot like me, an inkling of that former cuteness miraculously shows through and you are \u201cHoney\u201d again. \u201cWhat can I get you, Honey?\u201d \u2013 \u201cOkay Honey, you can come in and see the doctor now.\u201d Sometimes you\u2019re Sweetie or Dearie, but it\u2019s all the same thing. <\/p>\n
How you are addressed changes as you go through life\u2019s stages. You\u2019re shocked when a change takes place, like when the kid down the block comes to your door selling Girl Scout cookies and calls you sir or madam for the first time. And, when you are no longer referred to as Jimmy, but as Mr. Robinson. It\u2019s a long stretch, those Mister and sir years. Oh, you do get a Honey, now and then, but mostly in a diner, where the waitress brings you a mug of coffee, complains that her dogs are killing her and asks, \u201cAre you ready to order, Honey?\u201d<\/p>\n
So, at present, I\u2019m back in the Honey world. It\u2019s been a long journey. And, I have to admit, it\u2019s kind of nice to be Honey again. My trip to this place had a few detours along the way. I was \u201cButch\u201d right after my first Honey stage. So much so, that when I entered kindergarten I didn\u2019t know the teacher was talking to me when she said, \u201cNow Merlin, we don\u2019t push in line; you\u2019ll get your turn.\u201d (Merlin? I thought I was Butch.) I transitioned, but not with uniform success. Several of my grade school teachers assigned me to the girl\u2019s side of the classroom when they were making up their seating charts prior to the start of a new school year, thinking Merlin was a variant of Marilyn. <\/p>\n
I remember when it happened in fifth grade. Miss White was quite put out when she discovered me on the girl\u2019s side of the room and was forced to rework her chart. It was in alphabetical order, so when she inserted me in the middle of the boy\u2019s side of the chart she had to cross off every name after \u201cL\u201d and rewrite them in the new order. We watched her do this at her desk and then get up with a disgusted sigh and order half the boys and me to our newly assigned seats. <\/p>\n
She got even; she kept right on calling me Marilyn. Every morning, when she took attendance and whenever she called on me to go to the board or to answer a question from my desk. The whole room snickered every time she did it. Finally, I\u2019d had enough. The day she said, \u201cMarilyn, come to the board and complete the multiplication of 356 times 2, 475 (or some such unwieldy arithmetic problem.\u201d I stayed put at my desk. She asked again. I sat. Then, she walked over to me and yelled, \u201cMarilyn. I said go to the board!\u201d I looked to my left; I looked to my right, and back to her, and said, \u201cMarilyn? Who\u2019s Marilyn? Not me, I\u2019m Merlin.\u201d She grabbed me by the ear, in that special painful way that all teachers mastered back then, and marched me to the principal\u2019s office, a place I was intimately familiar with. But, it was worth it. Marilyn was never called on in class again. I don\u2019t have to worry about it anymore. I\u2019m Honey now. (It\u2019s better the second time around.)<\/p>\n