Military Mom, Part Four

Note: This is the fourth is a series of sporadic posts about this military thing happening in our family (one son in the Army; one joining the Marines).  How many Military Mom posts will there be?  No idea.  But more than four.

My soldier has been away doing some training related to his upcoming deployment.  Following is a text conversation we had just a few days before his return.  But first, to fully understand the conversation, you need a bit of inside information:

1.  When Spencer was quite young, I would constantly tell him that "Spencer Duncan is Mommy's little pumpkin."

2.  While away at training, Spencer cut his hand on a knife that he was using to cut off a piece of salami they were eating in the barracks. He received one stitch. Twice. (It broke open while he was playing basketball.)

3.  During training, Spencer did very well in qualifying to use certain weapons.

[This conversation picks up right after he gave me the specifics of his gun quals. Pay attention to the spelling of the word stitch.]

Me: Awesome!  Do you have a new nickname like Deadeye Duncan or Sureshot Spence?
Spencer: My name is actually Spencer Stich Duncan, and that is what is going on my flight bag.
M: Stitch? Oh, son, can't you get them to change it to Pumpkin?
S: Haha. No, Stich may be a better one.
M: Please at least get them to spell it correctly.
S: How do you spell it?
M: Stitch.
S: Well, crud.
M: Is it a done deal already?
S: No, but they made me put it on my camelback.
M: That. Is. Hysterical.
S: Haha. Why?
M: Just job security for me, son.
S: What do you mean?
M: I proofread, Stitch.  Perhaps all future nicknames should be run past me first.
S: Perhaps you are correct.
M: How much does a new camelback cost?
S: I have two.  One isn't marked on yet. We can fix this. [This made me laugh out loud.] Plus, it's only in Sharpie--may be able to fix it anyway.
M: I'm sorry I'm finding this so amusing, but it is funny.
S: I don't see it in the same way, I guess. That or my sense of humor was one of the first things to go in this process.
M: Check. Did they make you turn it in at the gate?  Will they give it back to you when you leave?
S: I don't get it back.  It's considered contraband out here.
M: Well, good thing you have a lifetime of funny to pull out at a moment's notice.  And they don't take away everyone's sense of humor, or else your new nickname wouldn't be Stitch.  By the way, why didn't they name you Salami?
S: Well, we can't even spell Stitch.  How would we manage Salami?

[We then had a conversation about how his dog was doing and something I did that almost made her fall asleep, which is handy information to have with this dog.]
S: Wow.
M: Yes, I am the Dog Whisperer. But I will label my own stuff, thank you. I don't want you to make me the Dog Wiperer or anything like that.
S: Shut it.

I giggled for hours after that conversation, in part because it was just so good to communicate with him, and also because he doesn't like to misspell words or use words incorrectly. 

Now my soldier is home again, for a short time.  He had a big batch of the World's Best Chocolate Chip cookies waiting for him, he's been fed burgers and fries, his dog is thrilled to have him home, and his hand is healing quite nicely.  As I've thought about his new nickname, I've been surprised that he's okay with the name Stitch.  A fan of Top Gun, I expected him to want a really cool nickname, like Rifle or Cowboy.  And maybe he would.  But when it comes right down to it, I'm guessing he's thankful he got named Stitch before anyone in his unit found out about Pumpkin.

Spencer Duncan, you are still my little pumpkin, and I am proud of you.  God bless you, son, as you travel the path before you.  And don't forget to take a dictionary.