Giles ,'Lies My Parents Told Me'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Come to Florida! We haven't had a hurricane in 3 years. It is N Carolina, Texas, and Louisiana you have to avoid! (shameless attempt to lure shiny Buffista to my world)
We had nuns so we all stood up and said 'Good Morning Sister Mary Whatever' every time one of them entered the room, or Father Whatever if it was one of the priests. I use Sir and M'am frequently.
I spent 4 hours today with a six week old baby and his mother. He was a real cutie and so snuggly. Baby toes!
When I moved to the south from the midwest I caught on to the sirs and ma'ams for my teachers easily enough, but when some of my new friends called their parents "ma'am" and "sir." It kind of surprised me. I asked my parents if they thought I should do the same for them and they replied that they would find it hurtful and distancing.
I also discovered that midwestern personal space and southern personal space are rather different. A friend said it was like chasing me around the room to have a conversation. She'd move into her idea of proper conversational distance, I'd back up, repeat as necessary.
The kids next door to us call us us "Miss Aimee" and "Mr. Joe". Joe told them they didn't have to, but they were under orders from their dad. It totally unnerves Joe.
Bwahahaha. I'm going to call him Mr. Joe from now on.
I love Kerfuffle Bunny, Mr. Joe!
I think we should ALL start calling him "Mr. Joe".
I have tried to teach my kids to at least start with Mr. ____ and Miss. ________ until they are asked otherwise. K-Bug is old enough now, she can make her own choices and hopefully she has learned enough to follow the lead of the other person (since I'm too many states away to prompt her).
"Mr. Joe"
Sounds like an automatic coffee maker for hipsters.
My elderly neighbor has been calling me Miss August for years now. After I was in a calendar for my friend's store in the neighborhood. I don't know if she remembers my real name!
...I still refer to our neighbor across the street, who has lived there since we moved in when I was seven, as "Mister Jones". I don't even know what his first name is. I'm 31 years old now. He's gotta be like, seventy or eighty now. He was a massive figure growing up, because we really WERE keeping up with the Joneses--he retired early, and was always keeping his lawn very nice, and he always kept an eye out on us--if he knew we were home alone, he'd call up and be like "I saw someone knock on the door, who was that?"