I’m pretty sure this post will fall into the same category as the “when I was your age…” stories, but hey, I’ll hit the big 4-0 this year, so I suppose it makes sense! 🙂
When I was a kid, most of the adults in my life had some sort of title. Mrs. Smith, Mr. Jones, Aunt Jane, Uncle John.
You get the idea.
When I had SS#1, I began referring to adults in the same manner, so he would learn. Then we met SuperNanny.
SuperNanny was the home daycare provider we chose for SS#1. She was incredible. When we first met her, she referred to herself as “Miss Super.” As much as I kept trying to call her Mrs. Nanny, she kept correcting me.
Now, understand that SuperNanny hadn’t been a “Miss” in more than a few years. Nearly old enough to be my own mother, I felt uncomfortable calling her by her first name, let alone with my child learning to call her “Miss Super”.
I got used to it, because it seems to be the trend. Now, I understand that in the South, it’s not uncommon for adults to be called by a title and their first names. But this isn’t the South, and I didn’t grow up in the South. What happened to the simple term of respect where children used titles for adults? My nieces call my by my first name because that’s what their mom calls me. SS#1’s friends call me by my first name. Their parents let SS#1 call them by their first names.
And it raises my hackles whenever they do. I must really be old if I would PREFER to be called “Mrs. Diva” by an elementary school aged student. For me, it’s all about Ms. Franklin and her words…