With just a dash....

The boys have a nickname for me. When I refer to the boys, I mean the soldiers in my husbands unit. The ones that have become more like family than friends. The ones who even if my husband is away, will come to replace the battery in my truck without a second thought, just because I asked them to. The ones that are always welcome at my home, and know that I will feed them and give them a place to sleep if they needed it. The ones who I trust to save my husbands life,as I know he would do the same for them. The ones who all have "uncle" in front of their names. Those boys. My other fly boys. They have a name for me. It was a nickname given to me from the last deployment as a joke, but it became a term of endearment. You see DH always calls me pet names. We have always called each other pet names. In fact, he knows how much it drives me crazy when he calls me by my actual name. He does it on purpose just to get a rise out of me. So along with all of his sweet nothings, like baby,my love,sweetheart,love of my life, you know THOSE ones that every time the words float off of his lips it's like a thousand butterflies took flight in my heart (yes, even after all these years, he still does it to me) the boys decided to come up with their own name for me. They decided on Cornbread. When they came home and started calling me that, well, I was not impressed. I thought they could have done better. I mean, if you're going to call me a food that is endearing, and American, call me apple pie or something! Alas, no, Cornbread stuck. I did ask them one time why they called me that. They told me it was because they like me, I was sweet, just like cornbread,and they loved cornbread. I guess in the male world that was suppose to be a good thing, a compliment of sorts. The old adage is you get to a mans heart through his stomach. I think I am living proof of that.
I started thinking about that today.Cornbread is a very American, and southern might I add (since I am from Oklahoma) food. It has long been the mainstay of many meals. Often stretching a meal for mere pennies in order to fill everyone up that sat around the table.It's always welcome at any table. At a potluck, a picnic,a home cooked dinner. Next to chili,and dumplings,and steak, even milk. Yes, cornbread has always been a welcome addition. It's warm, and sweet, and I don't think I know anyone who doesn't like cornbread. The settlers used to cook cornbread in cast iron skillets over open flame on the Oregon trail. Some days it was all they had to eat. In a weird way, I kinda like being called that, even if it is unconventional.It epitomizes everything I try to be. Everything I strive to be,things that may only matter to me. It's sweet,warm,makes you feel good,is versatile and functional in all aspects,likable,economical,yet resilient. It can be made into pie crusts,corn bread,johnny cakes,added to cookies,even muffins. It is a box or bag of many different colors. Just like me.I wear many hats as an Army wife. Some are better than others, but regardless the mission is completed.Even alone, cornbread can make a bad day better,and make you feel full. My life is full. Full of so many wonderful things, and wonderful people. I could not ask for better boys than my fly boys. I could not ask for a more loving,devoted,caring,perfect husband.I could not ask for a more amazing life than what he has given me. No we aren't rich according to my bank account, and we can't have a life full of the grand material possessions, but I have them. DH and DD. The two people in the world that make my life complete. Without either one of them I would be lost.. Some days I wake up, and have to remind myself why my husband has to be away from his family again. We are part of a bigger picture. One that we are proud to be part of.My husband is an amazing man,and the telephone can never take place of his smile,but hearing his voice can make a dark day bright again.I love him more every day for loving me,despite my imperfections.
No, I may not be something exotic, and full of different spices, and I may not be something as lavish as a an apple pie, but those things leave you empty at the end of the day. I am just Cornbread.With a little pinch of something, I can be anything I need to be,anything you want me to be, right then and there. Ultimately when the light outside begins to fade and the kitchen starts shutting down, I'm still me. I come from the same blue box that I started in, regardless of what I was able to become that day. Thankfully, my husband has always been a sucker for Jiffy.