Recommended, 2022

Editor'S Choice

Hello honey!

Column: Psst

Pet names are a nice sign of love. But it depends on the correct choice of words, says Joy editor Susanne Frank.

Look into my eyes, "Hasenpo"!

"Schatzihausen!", It sounds from the second gear on the left in the supermarket and fades away slowly in the third between the cornflakes. The heads of the attending customers turn jerkily in the direction from which the voice comes, wandering over the shelves with the plums and sticking to me, the only person who enters his head. First I turn on tomato red, then I'm snow-white, as if I wanted to get hold of a leading role in the Japanese Kabuki Theater.

Because "Schatzihausen" I am. My friend calls me that way recently. Before that I was "Schnuddel", "Honey-Bunny" and recently at my home even "Schnappi". Since then, my mother is also firmly convinced that she has a hearing error. Not that I generally dislike pet names, but if it does, it should be one that other women envy. What would have happened if Humphrey Bogart had said to Ingrid Bergman instead of "Little" Hasenpo in "Casablanca"? Quite simply: Rick would have disappeared rightly in exile!

"Mum" would be worse

"We have to talk about your love expressions, " I whisper to my friend so between half-fat margarine and Dosenravioli. He looks at me with big gray-green eyes. I immediately feel guilty. Actually, the nickname is not so bad after all. "Mum" would be worse. Nevertheless! "Just call me ...?" Christ, there must be something out of the ordinary ?! "My hedgehog's snout, " he says sadly, "the name should be something special. Like you! "I melt like butter in the August sun.

Nevertheless! I have to stay tough. "Could we agree that you will not give me any animal names?" He nods. "My ...", he starts again. "And food or household appliances are also taboo!", I suffocate the next attempt in the bud. Unthinkable, if at the next purchase suddenly "Puddingschnecke" or even "whisk" would sound through the store. He nods understandingly, and I'm happy - until the next Saturday shopping. Suddenly a questioning "Mrs. Schatzi! ???" roars through the supermarket. And I know immediately who is meant. But somehow I find him sweet, my "Mister Schatzi".

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