Here’s the sitch:
We Rhymers had a big family to-do this weekend. Among the twelve zillion guests were two of my first cousins, whom I’ll call Danielle and Robert. Their mother (my mother’s older sister and best friend) died last year. Their father died many years before that–before either of them reached their teens. They spent a great deal of time in my house when we were children. They’re both in their 40s now.
Anyway…in the last few years, both Danielle and Robert have taken to calling my father Daddy. Danielle, in fact, often referred to him as ***my *Daddy. “Skaldimus,” she said yesterday, “did you make sure my Daddy has a plate? Can you take my daddy some coffee?”
And so on.
This vexes me quite a bit. I’m not sure I’m being fair about that, but it just does. I mean,I love my dad, but I can’t say I actually like him; were we not related I’d never choose to be in his company. But they both love and like him. And I like them well enough; and I can understand why, having lost their own father at such young ages, they might have latched onto him. Also, since their mother (and mine) is dead, perhaps that need is stronger now.
But still it bothers me. Am I being unreasonable?