Things have been quiet here lately which is really good for the end of the summer. Soon enough the kids will begin the back to school things and Doug will be dealing with the many football camps they have before the high school season starts. A little quiet is nice. Its soooo nice to be able to stay in bed until you’ve actually had enough sleep and wander into the kitchen for coffee which you can drink at your leisure. These days will be gone soon enough.
I’ve been working on gifts in my cottage for the remainder of summer birthdays. Unfortunately I can’t show any pictures…you know the drill….My etsy store is up and running but I need to put a link on my blog. I have a few bags on and more to come. I love vintage tablecloths and they look so cute made up into a bag with coordinating fabric. I use mine for my knitting (well, truth be told, I’ve also got a notebook and a summer reading book and other neccessities too) and drag it everywhere I go. Needless to say, I’ve been busy and my blogging has taken the back seat.
So, on to the title of this blog. Have you been wondering what I mean? Maybe some of you know exactly what I mean: the moment you notice you’re referred to as Ma’am and not Miss. What tips these guys off? Is it the Volvo wagon? The wedding ring? The gray roots I’m constantly fighting to keep covered? Or maybe it’s the 3 kids that I’m dragging with me everywhere…Whatever, I’ve been ma’amified. Maybe it’s a sign of respect but, damn! I’m not that old! You know how your parents say things that they think are funny-taglines that they say over and over again? As a kid you hear them all the time. My dad has a few. Well , I hate to say it and I’m hoping he’s not reading today, but some of them actually make sense now. One is: "Shoulda had dogs." Whenever we kids were a pain in the ass he would tell us how he should have raised dogs instead of having kids. On some days, this is a good thought. The other thing he would say is: "Sir was my father. Call me Ed." This would obviously be in response to someone referring to him as sir and his response would produce exaggerated eye-rolling from me and my sisters. Yeah. Well. I get it now. I’m hating the ma’am thing! It makes me cringe everytime someone calls me that! I’m not grown up enough to be a ma’am….
Ma’am is my mother. Call me ……