Young Ladied

It happened again. I was out with my children, minding my own business, and someone “young ladied” me. Now, he only wanted to know the time, but still. Personally, I think I should have graduated to at least “Miss” by now. My mother thinks I’m off my rocker when I try to explain the connotations of “young lady, miss, and ma’am.”

Young lady is what most girls were told to be when they were small. For example, “We’re going out to eat and I want you to act like a young lady.” However, it always remained negative in my mind. Authority figures would use the term when you were in some manner of trouble, “Young lady! Come here.” Finally, “young lady” is how smug restaurant patrons refer to their servers. “Young lady, I wanted hot coffee. Go rinse a mug in hot water, then fill it with boiling coffee, my teeth aren’t melting. You call this hot?”

“Miss” has pleasant undertones. It’s for small children who are familiar with you, but not family. I love being “Miss Heather” to my friend’s children. “Miss” is also for polite strangers and the type of people I enjoyed waiting on, in my restaurant days. “Miss, do you have the time?”

Ma’am is a term of respect. I use it often, regardless of age. I want my boys to use it. It doesn’t bother me if someone uses it to address me. It used to fluster me when I’d be working and suddenly someone would snap, “I’m not a ma’am. Ma’am is my mother.” I don’t know exactly what would happen, but something would short circuit in my brain and I’d be unable to use any other form of address. I finally came to terms with it, one day. What would they do? Call the home office and say I was rude? I can just imagine that conversation?
“Can you explain the incident please?”
“She called me ma’am?”
“Anything else?”
“No, just ma’am.”
“I see, well, we must put a stop to that. We can’t have our employees referring to female customers as ma’am.”

That incredibly long tangent was to explain why I hate being “young ladied.” As I have a couple of children, I would like to pass for their mother and not their sitter. I should probably update my wardrobe. Is there anyone willing to give me a hand? I am utterly clueless. I visit the store, look through the racks and eventually yield to the t-shirts, jeans, and converse. I want to look grown up, but not yuppified, adult but not soccermom. I hate soccer.