One night when I was visiting home, I found myself sitting in a barstool across from Dad at The Bar in Buckingham Palace engaged in a very...serious...discussion. That sort of thing never happened, of course, but on this particular night we made an exception. Dad had decided that since that I had now grown up, he wanted to give up the role of father in favor of the role of friend. I was fine with that -- Dad was always correct when he made important life decisions. As a result, Dad soon began referring to me as "Buddy" on a regular basis. When I called home, for instance, I would get a "Yello?!?" (he never checked Caller ID, so he was always genuinely surprised and happy to hear from you), to which I would say, "Hi Dad," and he would reply, "Hey Buddy, how are you doin'?" That sort of thing. I rarely actually called him "Bruce", but I reserved the right to. I suppose once in a while I might say to a friend, "…and then guess what Bruce did….". We were "Dad & Buddy" most of the time, but we could be "Bruce & Jeff" if either of us needed a Bruce-ing or a Jeff-ing from the other. A few years ago, something occurred which altered our nice little equilibrium. I've never really told anybody about this, because it's a little embarrassing. My dad started calling me "Honey". The first time I heard this new nickname, I let it slide. The second time, I called him out on it by asking quizzically, "Did you just call me 'Honey'?". Now, I am as secure in my masculinity as the next guy. However, there is such a thing as the Man Code, and its rules are very simple to follow. For instance, you do not buy another man an inappropriate gift like shoes or jewelry on a holiday or birthday. The only acceptable man hug is the awkward move where you shake right hands while half-heartedly hugging with the left hands. And you do not call another man "Honey". All of you guys reading this are nodding along with me right now. I finally asked Bruce to stop it, for fear that this disturbing new nickname might become public knowledge. Dad wanted to honor my request, but he simply was not capable of breaking the habit. It became pretty funny watching him try, though. Instead of just "Honey", my new nickname became various versions of "Honey - oh…sorry" or "Honey - darn it!" as he caught himself in the act. Try as he might, Dad simply could not help himself. He felt so warmly about those he loved that none of this was really unexpected. If you are reading this little tale, while he may or may not have said it out loud, you were one of Dad's 'Honey's too.