So, I have these nieces and nephews who are the cutest, most adorable little kids on the planet, and don't bother trying to tell me about some kid you know or have spawned yourself who's as cute, or if you're really feeling the hubris today, cuter, because I will tell you right now, no. You are wrong. So let's not argue.

Although these morsels of adorableness have names already, I pretty much always have this urge to call them by some other name that better reflects their true natures: "Sweetie" or "Honey" or "Who'sJustTheSweetestMostWonderfulWiddleBoy/GirlInTheWholeWideWorldWhyYOUAre!" Something innocuous like that.

But I never get to. Just about all of the kids have put the smackdown on me when I've tried. Here's how a typical conversation would go:

Andrew: "Hi Megan!"
Megan: "Hi, sweetie! How are you?"
Andrew:
Megan: "Hello?"
Andrew: "Hi."
Megan: "Hi! How are you?"
Andrew: "Um, Megan?"
Megan: "Yes?"
Andrew (very quietly): "My name isn't 'sweetie.' It's ANDREW."
Megan: "I know that, honey, it's just kind of a nickname."
Andrew: "And it's not 'honey.' Honey is for eating and YOU CAN'T EAT ME!"
Megan: "I know I can't eat you--"
Andrew: "Good because I don't want you to!"
Megan: "And I won't, I promise."
Andrew: "And my name is Andrew. ANDREW. A-N-D-R-E-W."
Megan: "Okay, Andrew."
Andrew: "Try to remember, okay?"

The part that makes me feel guiltiest is his tone of voice, which always expresses so many things: embarrassment for me that he has to remind me of his name again, sadness that I don't even know who he is, impatience that we're going through this one more time, and so on. Because I can't deal with the guilt, I just address the kids by their names and save all my gooshiness for my sisters' dogs. "Who's the sweetest widdle puppy in the whole wide world? YOU ARE! Yes, YOU, my sweet widdle angel!" If they object, at least they can't tell me they do.