Honey is one of those words that humans have stretched so far out of shape, it’s a miracle the bees haven’t sued us for trademark infringement. 

Think about it: “honey” is food, it’s an endearment, it’s a name, it’s a term of survival, and it’s even a reason for arguments in kitchens everywhere. If you yell “Honey!” across a room, you might be calling for your spouse, asking for some toast, a drink or warning someone that there’s a bee about to sting them.

Let’s start with the obvious: the stuff bees make. Honey has been prized for thousands of years. Ancient Egyptians used it in offerings, remedies and probably as the world’s first excuse to ruin a perfectly good diet. Today, honey is drizzled on yogurt, stirred into tea and squeezed out of a plastic bear on French toast or pancakes.

The funny part? We’re all terrified of sugar, but we’ll look at a jar of honey and convince ourselves it’s practically a vitamin. “Oh, it’s natural,” we say, as we drizzle half a cup of it over our pancakes, but so are hurricanes, which are not good for us either.

“Honey” is also the go-to nickname for anyone in a romantic relationship. Couples everywhere seem to believe that their love will sound more authentic if they call each other “Honey” instead of their actual names. You never hear someone yelling “Michael!” across a crowded mall. It’s always, “Honey! Over here!” Or, if they’ve been married long enough, “HON!” shouted with her dangerous voice to imply, “I told you we shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

The nickname has no expiration date. Young couples say it sweetly. Newlyweds say it proudly. Seniors shout it across aisles in grocery stores as if it’s an emergency broadcast system: “Hon, which brand of yogurt did you want?” 

Then, of course, there are people who are literally named Honey. It sounds adorable until you grow up and try to order a pizza. “Name for the order?” “Honey.” “No, ma’am, I meant your name.” At some point in life, it’s hard to be taken seriously when your business card says Honey Smith, CPA. Imagine testifying in court: “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” “I do.” “State your name, please.” “Honey.” The judge just stares, waiting for you to finish.

Of course, without bees, there is no honey. Which is why humanity treats bees with such tenderness and respect. Just kidding, we panic and run screaming every time one flies near us. Never mind that bees are essential pollinators, keeping our fruits, vegetables, and flowers alive. We act like they’re tiny-winged assassins with a personal vendetta to sting us.

We say we want the honey, but when the bee politely shows up to do its job, we grab the nearest newspaper, shoe or fly swatter. “Not me, buddy. Go pollinate someone else.” “Thanks for the honey, now please die somewhere else.”

“Honey” is also a word couples weaponize during arguments. It starts sweet, but the more it’s repeated, the more venom it carries. “Honey, I told you not to buy that.” “Honey, don’t talk to me that way.” By the time you hear, “Listen, Honey!” you know the discussion has moved from mild disagreement to the edge of open warfare. It’s the only word in English that can mean either “You’re my everything” or “You’d better sleep on the couch.”

Winnie the Pooh, who is single-handedly responsible for millions of children growing up convinced that eating honey straight out of a jar with both hands is socially acceptable behavior.

It’s part of the great American tradition of calling strangers pet names to soften the fact that we have no idea what their actual names are. The options are endless: honey, hon, sweetie, sugar, darling, babe. Half the country could go into witness protection without changing anything because we’ve been calling them “hon” all along.

At the end of the day, honey is one of those magical words that glues human life together, literally and figuratively. It’s food, it’s love, it’s sarcasm, it’s a way to make bugs seem useful. It’s in our kitchens, our conversations, our nicknames, our pop songs and our snack cabinets.

So the next time you pour honey into your tea, or over your pancakes, call your spouse “Honey” or swat a bee that only wanted to keep your favorite flowers alive, just remember: this one little word does it all. Honey sweetens our food, our language and sometimes even our arguments.