I think I got my first “ma’am” at the grocery store when I was about 25. I remember finding it somewhat amusing.
Tonight I was standing in the kitchen stirring an uninspired cauldron of Annie’s macaroni and cheese when Sean made a loud scoffing noise.
“I just got called Mister,” he said in something that bordered on wonder.
“Really?” I asked still stirring.
“Yeah, she’s on the phone with someone and she referred to me as Mr. Magee,” this with a laugh.
I stifled a snort as I watched him shake his head. The she he was referring to was the intern from ATF who will be living with us for the next 6 weeks. The sweatshirt she had on tonight said Class of 2005 (high school class as opposed to college)
“Mister, ha!”
“Feeling old?”
“No, it’s just mister. Mister?” Little bit of resentment in his voice.
“Sean, you’ve been mister to her for a long time.”
“It’s just weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“You are –
“Don’t do it.”
And the scene ends with an old 30 something kiss that’d make our intern cringe.