Truth is, maybe one day they will tell me not to call them sweetheart. It lingers at least long enough for me to feel a tinge of doubt which I eventually dispel with wholesale defiance. Yes, I still say it automatically, out of love, but now there’s a self-awareness in calling my boys sweetheart that comes more quickly and lingers longer. There’s a hint of willfulness to the term now. In these moments of brotherly conflict, they are less than sweet and my heart quickens from stress and frustration rather than love. They each have their own independent likes and desires which often clash. They have big boy personalities that thrill to dinosaurs and farts.
![still in love with my childhood sweetheart still in love with my childhood sweetheart](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/0f/a5/9f0fa5f7bd233405f1075b5193d10743.jpg)
They’ve almost completely shaken off their little kid ways. I think it’s because I’m more conscious of their boyhood every day. They still don’t mind being called sweetheart, but it’s a tighter fit, so to speak. It happened suddenly, just like the way their pants can get too short overnight. It wasn’t until just recently that the term of endearment began to fit them a bit more awkwardly. They made my chest feel like it would burst with pride. They gave me more happiness than a dozen cookies. When they were babies, my boys wore the label sweetheart well. My guess is that she called the boys sweetheart and I followed suit. And that goes for dogs and babies, specifically. To her, all cuddly and precious things are sweethearts. Though, blame would infer she has something to feel guilty about. Like most things, if I really think hard and long enough, I can find a way to blame my wife. But nevertheless, there it is - sweetheart tumbling unconsciously from my lips as I address my sons. For instance, I don’t remember it being used to address me or anyone else when I was younger.
![still in love with my childhood sweetheart still in love with my childhood sweetheart](http://cdn-webimages.wimages.net/0507e8f864968b70209134047035ed7fd93d08-wm.jpg)
I can’t even say for certain how the term even came into my lexicon. Maybe I’m like some inverted Adam naming the birds snakes and the snakes birds and the boys sweethearts.
![still in love with my childhood sweetheart still in love with my childhood sweetheart](https://images.freeimages.com/images/premium/previews/1223/12239729-still-life-of-rock-with-love-in-japanese-script.jpg)
And perhaps that offers a glimpse into my name-giving psychology. However, I did use it on my male cat, Fido, who also had a dog’s name. I don’t use it with women other than my wife, mostly because I’m not Humphrey Bogart or a misogynist. I’m not sure when I started using sweetheart and sweetie. But the thing is, when all is said and done, I don’t care. I’m aware there are men (and some women) who might cringe at the term of endearment I level at my boys. “I love you, sweetie,” I tell them both after patting their heads and tucking them in for the night. “Sweetheart, just calm down!” I plead with his 5-year-old brother as he starts a meltdown over a broken Lego build. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I ask my tearful boy as he comes in from outside crying with a limp and skinned knees.