Got a call from some fire department/police organization soliciting donations today–not for a cause supported by the policemen like "Fill the Boot for Hunger" or something. For the men themselves.
I listened politely to his superlatives about living in America with heroes living next door, guarding our streets and ready at the drop of a hat to come to my rescue.
Just as he got to the part where he was asking my opinion (Isn't it nice to know, blah, blah, blah?) the fifteen-month-old climbed up onto the computer desk.
Cortni! Get down, you're going to break your neck!
Yes, Ma'am, absolutely, I agree with you. Now don't you feel like the daily sacrifices made by the men in uniform in your city deserve a big thank you?
Dustin–don't feed the car to the baby!
That's right, Ma'am! I'm glad you agree. Now even a donation of ten or fifteen dollars will make a difference.
It went on like this. I wanted to turn it around and ask him a few questions–see if he wanted to donate to my cause. I mean–aren't we all overworked and underpaid? I wanted to ask him if he had children in daycare and how much he was willing to pay their provider to take "courtesy calls" like his.
And why are they called "courtesy calls"? Hate to break the news, folks, but using terms like "Ma'am" does not qualify you as courteous.
AND, since when does everyone start calling me Ma'am?