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"She called me &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; again. Twenty years ago, I would have thought nothing of it. Ten years ago, I was so tired with new motherhood, I wouldn&amp;#039;t even have noticed. But now that I&amp;#039;m a 40-something, it feels all wrong. I just don&amp;#039;t feel like a &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; anymore. Granted, I had the unreasonable notion that once I hit 40, younger people would start treating with the kind of respect usually reserved for the First Lady or someone who wears white gloves and a hat to church (not that I do, but\u2026). And I&amp;#039;ll bet that nobody calls the First Lady, &amp;quot;Sweetheart.&amp;quot;  Something about 40 seemed so mature way back when I was 39. Mature in a way that being called &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; by anyone other than my grandmother or the old men who hang out by the piano player at Nordstrom&amp;#039;s seems out-of-whack.  But then I turned 40, and people kept calling me &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; or &amp;quot;Hun&amp;quot; or even &amp;quot;Cutie.&amp;quot; I blame the Baby Boomers for making 50 the new 30. That makes me just 20 now \u2013 and destined to be called &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; for several more decades. I guess it could be worse. They could call me &amp;quot;Ma&amp;#039;am.&amp;quot; On second thought, &amp;quot;Sweetheart&amp;quot; sounds well, kinda sweet. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a1941/good-grief-blog-070407/>