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Friday, July 15, 2005

Sugar, Ahh, Honey, Honey

Tomorrow my very bestest friend in the whole wide world is visiting from Tennessee. She and her four kids, along with two of their friends, will land upon the Lane Estate to stay for a few days. It's always a huge honor when someone comes to visit us and calls that a vacation. Honor or insanity, such a fine line.

She is the one I call "Honey". She has a real name but because of a slip up, she is just Honey. One day, some 15 years ago, she and I were getting off of the phone. At the same time, Mr. Lane was leaving for work.

I tried cupping my hand over the telephone to say goodbye to him, "Bye honey. Love ya."

From the phone, I hear her giggling, "You talkin' to me, Honey?"

"Uh... yeah, because I always say, 'Bye honey, love ya.' to you."

"Hahaha! Okay, I'll talk to you later. I love ya Honey."

"I love ya too smart ass. I mean, Honey."

And so a nickname was born unto both of us. A name that no one else calls us but the other. To this day, when we are getting off of the phone or instant messenger, we start with, "Hi ya Honey! and end with, "I love ya Honey!"




A Spoon Full Of Sugar (Honey)

Honey's favorite story that brings me embarrassment to this day, is one of those things she brings up every chance she gets. One night she talked me into watching Armageddon. It was her favorite movie and she was appalled that I had not seen it yet. We settled the kids on the couches and living room floor with a movie and the two of us went off to her room.

We often had sleepovers, mostly because we had a shitload of children, and when we got together one of them always seemed to fall asleep. Having a sleepover was easier than moving dead weight. Even when we lived within walking distance, we still just stayed put until morning.

As the world was blowing up on the tube, I was getting sleepy. She kept nudging me and tried getting me to sit up and "Pay attention!" She eventually became so engrossed in her movie, leaving me alone long enough to fall asleep.

It wasn't that the movie sucked. Hell it was probably a good one, but every time I get into a horizontal position, I'm out like a light. (Okay, maybe I use that position for other things, but that'll be a blog for another day.)

I remember hearing her turn the TV off as the closing music played. Back into my deep sleep I went. In the middle of the night one of my eyes popped open, as if my mind was saying, "Where am I?"

Oh boy! What my eyeball saw that night has scarred me for life. I was spoonin' Honey! Laying all up in her grooves. My knees in her bends. My right arm draped over her like a teddy bear.

I slithered away from her, getting back to my side of the bed or maybe I was squishing myself against the wall so that wouldn't happen again. I had trouble going back to sleep.

Morning came and I hopped out of bed, made coffee, made breakfast for the kids and Honey emerged. I handed her a cup of coffee as she started giving me shit for falling asleep during "the greatest movie ever made".

I interrupted my scolding to make my confession. Looking into my coffee cup, I said, "Honey, I woke up during the night..." (cheeks all rosy) "...and I was spooning you."

"Hahaha! You spooned me?"

"Yeah, only you aren't making matters any better."

That statement sent her into overload. My embarrassment was thrilling to her. Still is. The other day we were on the phone talking about her upcoming trip and she asked me if I would spoon her. Smart ass!

We've been through birth after birth, taking care of babies, then toddlers, all the way through the teens together, even when apart by miles. We've been through richer... okay, mostly poorer, separations from our husbands, sick kids, our own personal health issues, moves that have taken us out of state far from the other and yes, even spoonin'.

She used to call me a homophobe for freaking out about spooning her. Of course, she knows better. And if ever, I decided to pitch for the other team, Honey, who I love and loves me back, who loves my kids as much as I love hers, understands me in all of my insanity and loves me in spite of everything, would make the perfect wife for me.

But, truth be told, I like beef. It's what's for dinner.