Who’s the Ma’am?
I have a friend, an older friend (49), who’s son called me ma’am today. I was, and still am, quite disturbed. When he said it I almost laughed until I saw that he was serious. He’s 18 and I am 33. 33! This is not a ma’am age! I am not even old enough to be his mother. Well…I guess I am if I had him when I was 15.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those people who can’t admit that they are no longer HS or college-aged Gen-Xers. However, I still affirm that I am not a ma’am…at least not yet. I call people ma’am…not the other way around. UUGHHHH. I remember HS and college like it was yesterday. Although…I graduated from college 11 years ago. Eleven…ewww.
But I digress. I am cool. No. Really, I am.
I am the lady who jumps into the rope while the girls are playing double-dutch in the park.
I wonder. Do you think those teachers who “seduce”…(molest) middle school boys do it so they won’t be looked at as ma’am…ya, know, the ‘I still got it’ syndrome? Oh boy. I guess a sure sign that I have turned into a ma’am is that I’m wondering how other people attempt to dodge this fate.
I can take “miss”. Call me miss. I ain’t the ma’am type. So what I have a child and husband. I AM THIR-TEE-THREE for goodness sake.
I’m probably so p-oed because I always thought the boy harboured a secret crush for me. Guess not huh? Let me go catch an episode of Matlock or Murder She Wrote.
I call everyone Ma’am and sir and the ladies at my job hate it - I’m 28 and they range from 3o-ish to fifty-ish
Just a respect thing - once I think we are friends I’ll nip it but until then- because that way I don’t have to remember names.
Comment by Raquita — October 11, 2005 @ 1:05p