Sometimes what comes out of my mouth is a complete surprise to me.

Sometimes I go over and over in my head how I should have responded.

A friend’s post on Facebook the other day reminded me of a situation in which I responded with a retort. My friend didn’t like getting called ma’am.

Several years ago, I had gone to visit my gynecologist. I was dealing with a lot of hormonal changes that weren’t very pleasant. When I arrived, the receptionist called me sweetie.

Annoyed, I didn’t say anything, took a seat in the waiting room, and waited.

Once I got back to the exam room, the nurse called me sweetie over and over again while she checked in and took my vitals.

As I get more annoyed, I think to myself, “My name is RIGHT there, on my chart. Can’t you read?”

Fortunately, my doctor did not call me sweetie.

Thinking that the torture of being called sweetie in that patronizingly way is finally over, I go to check out.

“OK, sweetie, that will be $40 for your copay,” the desk clerk says.

I sigh and pull out my credit card. She processes it.

“Here’s your receipt, sweetie. Let’s set your next appointment,”

This time, I’ve had enough, my snappy, hormonal-hazed retort: “You can call me Kris, you can call me Mrs. Williams, you can even call me ma’am, but do NOT call me sweetie again!”

You’ve been warned. ❤