Unusual rules you had to follow in your home or when visiting other people's homes

we always had to callfriends and aquaintences Aunt and Uncle. It was a courtesy title, but to this day with both parents gone, I'm unsure of who were real relatives and who weren't.. ( my mum was the same age as you Louis ):)
We were taught to call older people and people we didn't know well Mr./Mrs./Miss. LastName.
 

my father always had a different meal to us , for example he'd have pork chops and vegetables, or whole fish.. we'd have canned meatballs..one can between all of us kids, and one pack of Uncle Ben's rice between us, or a small plate of mac & cheese, or a bowl of packet chicken noodle soup .. .. or my mother would buy him dark chocolate, but no chocolate for us .. and he'd leave it right where we kids could see it, but never offered us any..
Mom often made different items for dad..... he was late often but in general if we sat and talked to him as he had dinner he shared it all...
 

We were not allowed to contradict our mother. Self-defense was not allowed, even if she read our minds incorrectly. She always believed what she thought was true. This is why I made a very big point of teaching my kids that no one knows themselves better than they each know themselves. Period. No matter what.

To this day, it amazes me how some people make up stuff about other people in their heads, and believe that what they made up is true! I say if you want to know something about someone, simply ask them. Figuring one knows the answer without asking is the stuff of soap operas.

I'll give you an example. When my mother died, she had a large collection of scarves - accessories, not winter wear. They were beautiful. She always tried to get me to wear them, but I felt like a pig dressed in a tutu in them, so I refused to do so. I am just not a scarf person, and don't talk to me about ruffles! I do not like wearing scarves. It's a trait of mine - it doesn't mean I was strangled in a past life, so don't go there. People have!

When my mother died, I took 3 small framed prints and a 3" stuffed terrier, none of them valuable. The rest, I told my sister she could take, because I'd always planned to do that. She deeply cares for things that have sentimental value to her, and lots of things do. I was not about to get into arguments over possessions, especially since we both like the same things.

She hired a moving van and moved a lot of stuff to her house in another state. She discovered one scarf was missing. She stewed over it for 2 full years. Then she called me and said that I had stolen the missing scarf. No, I didn't. I pointed out how I have a lifelong aversion to scarves, and wouldn't want to own no matter what. She said, well you must have thrown it away. Please, with her guarding my mother's stuff like it was the Hope Diamond, I didn't have a chance to toss anything, and wouldn't have anyway. She wouldn't let me help her pack, take stuff to Goodwill ... nothing. She still thinks I am thief.

The entire situation was frustrating, but no more so than the many times my sister has decided she can read my mind and is right. She gets it from my mother.
 
Last edited:
The landlord and his wife lived next door to us when we were kids. They were Jehovah Witnesses but they didn't bother anybody. They had a granddaughter that would come visit in the summer and I got to go over to play. I changed the radio station to rock and roll one day and I found out real quick the Mrs had a temper. The only music allowed in the house was the classical music station.
 
I think it was because they lived through the Depression Era and knew what it was like to do without.. so the approach they took was (phrase occasionally used) that it was 'almost criminal' to throw food away.
My mom was raised in Leipzig during WW2. She was 10 when the war ended. They were starving before, during, and after the war due to the war era in Germany.

Yet she never made us clean our plates. I don't know whether that was because of the joy of having food to waste, but whatever the reason, she never had to persuade us to eat it all. She was a really good cook, being self-taught or taught by my dad. She never learned to cook because there wasn't really much food or variety of food for her to cook when she was coming up.

Of everything I remember from my childhood, the most detailed memories are of the meals she made us. I can recall practically everything.
 
We were taught to call older people and people we didn't know well Mr./Mrs./Miss. LastName.
When I lived in Boston, after I had kids, that's how children addressed adults. Now it seems like they call most adults by their first names. I make it clear, by introducing myself as Mrs. WheatenLover.

In the South, for close adult friends of the family, it's Miss First Name. Or Sir or Ma'am. I don't recall men being referred to as anything except Mr. LastName-- maybe all the misters were at work.
 

Back
Top