We had our living room painted a couple weeks ago, and the painter was back the other day for a touch-up. In between, I’ve had probably a half-dozen phone calls or conversations with him. He always calls me “Mrs. Noga.”
It’s only logical. He knows my last name, seen me with my two kids, heard me refer to my husband. And technically I suppose it’s not incorrect. I’m married. “Mrs.” is the title for married. (While I don’t understand why a courtesy title needs to convey marital status, I’ve never had a bugaboo about “Mrs.” — unlike the one I have about people assuming I share my husband’s last name.) And since my last name is Noga, ergo, Mrs. Noga.
It’s just that Mrs. Noga has always been my mom.
But I didn’t correct or explain. I didn’t even really smile or shrug privately to myself about how I just don’t seem to wear traditions well. I just went with it. Though among my own friends’ children I’m usually called by my first name, I know many families that require titles. As my son gets older and starts bringing friends home, I figure I’ll have to learn to live with Mrs. something. It might as well be half right. Right?
Now I’m wondering, though. Does cherry-picking my name peeves make me hypocritical? Will this path of least resistance circle back to box me in? What do you think?
[...] As my two kids entered daycare, I even accepted being greeted, “Hi, Owen’s mom.” Given my ambivalence over the “Mrs.” title and having a different last name than my first, it was just an easier way to deal with two- and [...]