As an adult, I have gotten used to losing my given name. Following my marriage people began calling me Mrs. Shoham. Sorry, nope, still Ms. Polk; I kept my maiden name.
With the birth of our first son, I suddenly found myself addressed as Aaron’s Mother. Son number two brought a similar, Ethan’s Mother to my repertoire.
I even embraced being hailed as The Worm Lady, especially by excited kids who spied me toting a large, gray bin into their elementary school. They had already joined me for a truly kick-ass fun worm composting lesson and knew what that innocuous tub contained. Playing with hundreds of red wigglers is memorable after all.
But it was a jarring day when I answered the phone and the vet asked to speak with Mrs. Pettigrew. Really? Seriously?!