I’m visiting my folks in Charlotte for a few days, and things started out pretty well with my dad. He picked me up at the airport, said, “Hi, Ashley” when he greeted me, and we were off to the races.
Once we got home, I chatted with my mom a bit too, and while I don’t mind “Snooks” as an occasional nickname, my mom just kept calling me Snooks and never once my name. Finally, after about the third time:
MOM: And Snooks, Dinner will probably be ready around 6:00.
ME: “I’d prefer if you’d call me Ashley.”
[Before my mom could reply, my dad chimed in:]
DAD: “Well, we said that we’d try to call you Ashley in public. But we still like Snooks, and we’ll go with that sometimes too.”
I was too stunned to say anything. And it really chapped my hide not only that they weren’t really over this hump but also that they seemed to think I was the insensitive one for bringing it up. For fuck’s sake.
Hmmm, sounds like they’re hearing “Stop ever calling me Snooks” and I can understand them not wanting to give that up. Maybe try, “Okay, Mom, you can call me Snooks once in a while, but do you know you’ve used that over a dozen times and only called me Ashley 3 times since I got here?”
It seems that relatives are the toughest problem for everyone… Sometimes it takes years and I don’t have any idea when my daughter and son-in-law will totally get over it… Noriko, my wife, was worried about the neighbors. Now everything is fine and I have more friends in our community than before. Your patience is amazing…
Very best wishes to you…