hey there, Sweet Thing

When I sit down for brunch the first thing I want is a menu, the second thing is COFFEEEEEEEEEE. I have morning needs. I drink my coffee with about half [ish, it's not like I'm anal rententive enough to actually measure] a Sweet'N Low.

Some people just call these pink sugars.

A generic version of the pink sugar is called Sweet Thing.

I love that name, I think the real version should be Sweet Thing. Sweet Thing vs Sweet'N Low? No contest. It makes me smile just thinking about it. I want the endearment "Sweet Thing" to occur more often in my life. I don't mean it in any kind of derogatory, smarmy, lecherous way, but just like people use terms of endearment in the South, "what can I do for you Sweet Thing/shug/hon?"

Back when MegB and EmmyT were visiting, we went out for brunch. Our server was adorable. As three single ladies around thirty, we play this game I will call "How Old Do You Think He Is?" whenever we are out and about.

I'm terrible at it most of the time. "Oh hey, illegally young boy, you're cute." "Hi there, man who could be my father, I like your face."

We decided our server was 18 or 19-years-old. So we flirted with him. HARMLESSLY. Because we're 30. [He was 19, we asked.]

MegB gave him the pick-up line, "Oh, you dropped your nametag" and handed him the Sweet Thing.

He blushes and giggles a little like he doesn't know how to respond and heads to the back of the restaurant where the other servers are gathered. We worried we'd creeped him out. We watched him tell his co-workers about this table of ladies trying to pick him up and gesture to our booth.

They think we're hilarious! WE ARE!

He walks back with our checks and says, "Here you go, Honey."

BOOM. Well played sir, well played, good luck at college.