So there's this woman who's got the kind of vitality that makes you feel like you've had glitter shaken all over you after just one full minute in her presence. She's vibrant and bouncy and takes every opportunity - even when she's much too busy - just to say, "Hello, Beautiful!"

The thing is, when she says, "Hey, Sweetie!" or "Thanks, Dear!" or "See you later, Darling!" I like it! It makes me feel like I am being seen beyond a cursory glance - like I am important enough and precious enough to warrant a title of endearment.

The strange thing is she recently came and apologized to me for not being professional in the way she addressed me.

For goodness sake! 

I shook my head like she'd lost her mind, trying to whip some of that glitter back at her to smarten her up. "Never stop!" I said.

Because professionalism isn't relevant to people who have a relationship that involves knowing the names of each others children or the depths of varying aspirations.

Professionalism has its place - yes. 

But I want to be called Darling, darn-it!

And if we're friends, if I consider you more than a casual acquaintance, you can call me any sweet name you well please! {except Girlfriend, Pooh Bear, Princess, or Shnookums, of course.}

It makes my morning when the drive-thru girl hands me my coffee and says, "There you go, Love. Have a nice day."

And I will have a nice day. You know why? Because a stranger made me feel precious. A stranger!

Now, for crying out loud, could someone please call me Sweet Momma and put the world back into its proper orbit?!