The last week or so has been kind of a downer. So I am going to pull up my big girl panties (which Sir lets me wear during days at home with the kids) and try to take a more positive spin on the next few days. As we head full on toward Christmas, I need to get my head in a better place.
So…my son now calls everyone Sir. The first time he looked at me dead serious and said “Can I have more milk please, Sir?”, I choked on my coffee. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I was really glad Sir was not there to hear it. I usually try to watch how deep into subland I go around the kids. Sir and I have little nicknames that we use that are language appropriate for the house. So I was completely shocked when his innocent face said Sir and he thrust his cup in my direction.
Even more entertaining to me was that he said it to me. I am not Sir. Aside from the gender confusion, which was classic, I did appreciate the title. Sir would never allow the kids to disrespect me, but I’m not sure he would go so far as for them to call me Sir, even when he is not home. That could cause some dissension in the ranks which he would not be ok with.
Anyway, after I stopped choking and changed my coffee splattered shirt I stopped to think about what I was going to do and how I was going to keep this light and funny when I told Sir that evening that he had been usurped without his knowledge. We really try to keep everything BDSM separate from the kids; I was worried he was not to see the chuckles.
I should never underestimate the universe…
I was sitting at my computer, rocking the baby and trying to think of what to do, when I heard “yes, Sir” again. I turned around, determined to tell the Boy that he needed to stop calling me that. But, the Boy was not there. I went into the play room, where he has his toys and his tv. I didn’t remember what DVD I had put in for him an hour or so before, but a lot of the kids DVDs will repeat on their own until they are stopped.
“Yes, Sir” echoed again. But it was not my son saying it. I started laughing before I rounded the corner. He did not pick up Sir from me. His new obsession, The Octonauts, calls their captain Sir. I should have known, but the panic of our lifestyle ruining our kids stopped any logical thought. He has been getting more and more interested in this show. It has an educational spin to it, and no violence, so I don’t mind. And, of course, they sell toys and books to accompany the show, so he is thrilled.
I just couldn’t believe I didn’t remember that the crew calls the captain Sir. But, at that point, I was just so happy that I hadn’t broken the children I did not care. The story around the dinner table that night was much calmer than I had anticipated as well.
And now I can giggle every time the boy calls me Sir and not have to worry about mutiny accusations from the boss. It’s the little things sometimes.