Cutie Patootie. . .?

For most of us, this term brings with it images of pigtails, ruffles, sugar, and spice. For Dr. . . . let's just call him Dr. McDelusional, this term means something quite different.It was the beginning of a seemingly ordinary work day, and what was only my second day at a new hospital. Making my way through the recovery room I was somewhat distracted by a confident, loud voice booming "Hey cutie patootie!" While my initial reaction was to look around for the fresh young face, the reality is. . . I was, in fact, that face. I did what any reasonable woman would do and hurriedly continued on my way. I had not gotten three steps when the voice more forcefully beckoned "Ya you, new girl, cutie patootie. Aren't you the one I gave that nickname to yesterday?" I reassured him that I was not the original receiver of the glorious title. Assuming I was just being modest, Dr. McDelusional gave me a smug flirtatious smile and insisted "No, you're the one." I firmly reassured him this time that I would most definitely remember such an encounter, as I have not been called cutie patootie since the age of five.It was at that moment that a chill went down my spine and I realized. . . He did not have the wrong cutie patootie, his world was full of cutie patooties. My confirmation came when I was later making my way out of the hospital and saw the doctor with his next victim backed into a corner.I suppose one of these days Dr. McDelusional will find a happy recipient of the not-so-flattering title. Until then, I suspect I will have to endure his adoring smiles and nauseating eyebrow raises from across the recovery room. I pose this question to my fellow cutie patooties. . . Is there any age or accomplishment that will earn us a more esteemed title? Will we ever outgrow "cutie patootie", or is this simply our feminine fate? -Linds