Chapter 15

“The next alteration to our approach I want to recommend is to correct a mistake I made when I first volunteered for the job to help you with your daily tasks,” Scotty made it sound like he was admonishing himself and correcting his own mistake. That was all about positioning what he had to say next.

He explained that we’d already agreed to these rules – but he wanted to make sure everyone understood what we had agreed to.

“When we first started talking about this, I talked about making you serve the household dinner if you failed to set the table, help mom, and keep drinks full. I incentivized the wrong kind of behavior. I saw it as a punishment, and because I was afraid that I’d be disruptive to the family if I made you actually follow through with it – I overlooked spending time watching you set and clear the table, so that I could engage in conversation at the dinner.”

Mom seemed okay with everything he said so far.

“What I propose is that to continue the rule that you do not have permission to sit on the furniture, that extends to the dining table obviously. However, I do not want you to simply stand and eat. I expect you to wait attentively on either side of the table as you are. You can talk politely and engage but your entire mission is to set the table, clear it, serve the food, fill drinks, pick up dropped silverware and you will obviously help mom prepare the meal until you are able to make it yourselves.”

There was silence again, but it was a different kind of silence than before. I believe Mom couldn’t think of a good reason to object to the dress code – especially after Dad said he didn’t mind. This silence was more like a stunned silence that swept over all of us as we visualized two teenage girls in bikinis standing at attention and waiting on their family. It seemed so absurd and over the top.

Matt and Danny broke the silence by chuckling like it was clearly a joke.

“As an incentive, when you get your privileges back to sit on furniture after you reach 5.0 then you can sit during dinner, but you’d still be expected to take on all meal-related chore.”

“Surely, you can’t be serious?” My sister said.

“He is, and don’t call him Shirley,” Matt couldn’t resist making an old airplane joke. It helped ease the tension. Even Dad laughed.

“Hey, it’s an idle threat, right? Just like you are supposedly going to wake up on time, all you have to do is hit 5.0 and this is never going to happen?” Danny teased us.

“I don’t see what the problem is, Bethany. You already agreed to all meal-related chores and to give up sitting on the furniture. That includes in your room, the living room, the dining room. Do you want me to make exceptions now?”

“Mom?” my sister seemed to be asking for her to intervene.

“You agreed to this. This is what I tried to tell you about being seen as a maid. I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“A deal is a deal,” Danny snickered.

“A deal is a deal, but when do WE get to eat?” My sister asked Scotty.

“Once you have finished with everything, you may stand at the table or counter and eat. I will build time in your schedule so that you have sufficient time to eat – but not enough time to goof around and talk all night.”

“It’s at least the same food as everybody else gets, right?” I asked while pretending not to love this idea.

“Yes, leftovers from the previous meals. Snacking and junk food is right out,” Scotty added. That wasn’t what I was asking for, but I think Mom liked that idea. She’s been on a health food kick as of late.

“Okay, let’s address how you speak to us,” Scotty went on to the next item on his agenda. I felt my pulse quicken. We’ve just been sort of calling him and Danny Sir at times. Mom did not expect this topic.

“You started addressing Mom and Dad as Sir and Ma’am to be respectful about a week ago. You don’t always do it, and obviously, you call them Mom and Dad too. I think you’ve done a great job and because of your example I’ve been doing it too.”

Wow, that was nice. Everything so far was a criticism. It may have been intentional for him to give us some positive feedback just to throw Mom off guard of what was coming next. “You’ve even started calling Danny and me Sir to be respectful, which is appreciated. You haven’t done it consistently and we haven’t made you do it – but I think it should continue and just be an expectation. I wanted to sort of acknowledge that it makes me feel appreciated. I was reluctant to take this role because I did not want you to see me as some ogre. It helps me to feel less guilty about inspecting your work and holding you to Mom’s high standards. Danny, do you agree?”

“The first time they called me Sir I thought it was an accident. The second time they called me Sir I thought they were trying to butter me up so that I’d look the other way if they got lazy.”

Scotty talked directly to us “You’ve been doing it anyway, so I do not think you’d have a problem with continuing it?”

We agreed. I explained that it was an accident the first time I said it, and my sister said she started doing it because I did. I said that I did it because she did. We giggled and shrugged it off.

Mom didn’t have a problem with it before, she wouldn’t now. However, Mom had more to say.

“The thing is there is a difference in tone when you are talking to Dad and to me. At times, when you grow frustrated or get tired, you call me Sir, but your inflection sounds like you are being patronizing. I would like to insist that if you are going to agree to this – you do it consistently, and you do it correctly.”

“How does this help us get more work done, Sir?” my sister asked sweetly – taking extra care to sound accepting of the new idea.

“I think your attitudes need to change. You are present, you are doing the work, but you are chit-chatting, talking behind our backs, making fun of us, insulting us, and making us feel bad when you use a title intended to be respectful to passive-aggressively intimidate us into not wanting to confront you about your behavior. I’d like to work with you to improve your communication skills, and that includes tact and politeness.”

“Tact is the art of making a point, without making an enemy,” Dad agreed with his son.

“So what exactly does this mean, Sir?” my sister used the word, Sir.

“It does NOT mean you have to say Sir EVERYTIME you address us,” Scotty clarified that it meant that we had to MEAN it every time we address them. Dad genuinely smiled and rubbed his chin. He liked that comment.

“Okay, whatever,” my sister shrugged as if she didn’t get it – perhaps she didn’t.

“That’s what I mean. You had so many choices of how to respond to what I just said. You could have thanked me for trying to clarify what I am suggesting. You could have looked at me and smiled when you spoke. You could have asked me for further clarification.”

“Okay, please tell me exactly what you want us to say and how we will TALK while we clean?”

“You can talk to each other all day long at school, on the bus, at night. No one is stopping you, but you will put away your phone when you are working, and no texting each other. You can talk to each other about the job you have to do – but nothing else. You can talk to us politely or not at all. I also believe that you should extend the respect of addressing people as Sir and Ma’am to your teachers, principal, Mom and Dad’s friends, any guests that come over, and obviously Matt since it is hardly fair that he is here and treated differently than his brothers.”

“Well, he isn’t checking our work. We started calling you Sir kind of by accident,” My sister reminded him.

“Yes, but now that it is out there, I think rather than show partial respect poorly, you should strive for perfection. I would also expect that you feel you can talk to us freely, but while you are working you should only speak to us while you are working if you don’t understand something or if we speak to you. I’ve noticed that when you are doing something tedious you tend to make conversation so that you have an excuse to stop and elongate the task.”

Wow – would mom go for that?

“I don’t care if you call me Sir or not,” Matt shrugged.

“Well, I care. It makes me feel guilty that you are not included, and more importantly, I ask that you permit them to do it so that they can get into the habit of showing respect.”

“What are they supposed to do with each other? Call each other Ma’am?” Matt asked. It seemed silly but Scotty had a ready answer.

“I do not believe that is necessary because they are equals, and the intention of the title is to address someone as a slightly elevated status. As they are cleaning your room and trying to make your life easier – they have already elevated you. This is simply an acknowledgment of their desire to do something nice for you.”

Mom couldn’t argue with that, and she didn’t. She did have one question.

“What are you going to do the moment they fall back on old habits or get mad because you told them something they didn’t want to hear and don’t want to call you Sir?”

“If my sisters think they can use respect as a currency that they can withhold in order to convince me not to do my job to help them then they are wrong.”

Scotty was on fire – that was such a well put turn of phrase that Mom blinked and I could see that she respected that answer and that she was recognizing he was maturing. “That is why I am asking for this to be a formal rule and not something they do when they feel we deserve respect and withhold when they do not. My final two suggestions address how to actually enforce that. First, I’d like to ask the girls if they have questions or have any problem applying a polite, respectful attitude in all of their interactions – including at school and when we are out of the house?”

“Wait, we have to call you Sir at school and the mall too?” I asked. I already did but I wanted to pretend that this was news to me and that I was shocked and dismayed.

“I do not see why you would respect me at home and deny me respect out of the home. Is that going to be a problem Tig?”

“No, but are you going to call me, Ma’am when we are at school?” I chuckled. That seemed absolutely absurd even though it was the same logic he used. I was just joking and trying to play it off that I was being reluctant.

“I respect you tremendously Tig. I can’t express to you how much I appreciate you,” I didn’t expect that response. I was flattered. “The fact that you are willing to give of your time to take on all the chores to save the rest of us trouble, asked me to help you study so you can be the student I know you can be, and most of all that you extended me the courtesy of allowing me to inspect your work so you can actually do the job right is very admirable. This is not a beat-up on Tig and Bethany session. This is a session of putting the cards on the table and letting you know that your INTENTION is good – but you have work to do.”

He let that sink in. I didn’t know how to respond. It was fortunate for me that he wasn’t finished.

“When you call your teacher Sir or Ma’am, you are respecting them. If they address you by your first name, are they disrespecting you?”

That was a good point. I nodded that I agreed with him.

“I won’t be calling you Ma’am. In fact, I’d like to ask that you allow us to address you by your old nicknames Tiggy and Bunny just until you reach 5.0 in quality”

“What? Why?” I asked. That meant I was a bad girl.

“For the very reason that it seems to make you both uncomfortable, and when you get to be addressed as Tig and Bethany again – you would feel some sense of accomplishment, and loss if you ever drop below a 5.0 in quality. I can assure you that if you don’t like that- you won’t like the next two ideas.”

“What are they, Sir?”

“First of all, is everyone okay with addressing them as Tiggy and Bunny until their quality improves? You don’t have to do it all of the time.”

“Hell, I’ve got much worse names I could say that would probably upset and offend them much worse, like the C-word,” Danny offered wickedly.

“DANNY!” Mom admonished him for even suggesting it. She said she would be fine with this if we were.

“Actually, that is kind of what I want to address in the next to last change,” Scotty avoided the words “rules” and “discipline” when talking to Mom. He used those words all the times in our trances -except now he was weaving his suggestions with logic and reason and not hypnosis.

“I’ve gone for everything else, but you will NOT call them the C-word, Scotty!” Mom stood her ground stubbornly on that one. We cussed around the house. My mom didn’t like it but she tolerated it. Dad was more of the kind of guy who loved a good “pull my finger” joke. Fart humor went over well at the table – even Mom would laugh under her breath sometimes. C-word was a word like the N-word – that you simply did not say around the house.

I felt strongly that I used to use it ALL of the time in reference to any other girl that I did not like. I was very hypocritical in that I would also feign deep outrage when anyone called me a cunt. That was probably why my brother calling me a cunt – seemed so audacious to me. It was some response deeply rooted in my psyche that was almost primal.

“Oh, quite the opposite, Ma’am,” Scotty worked in addressing Mom as Ma’am. That was clever. “You see the girls cuss like sailors when they are cleaning, and they were ruthlessly vulgar the first time they had to get their hands dirty in yardwork.”

“Sometimes you have to yell motherfucker out loud a couple of times to get that push mower started. I think it’s magic,” Dad joked. That was his genuine sense of humor and naturally my mom didn’t correct him.

“If it was just saying poo-poo or pee-pee, or motherfucker, I guess I would have no problem with that,” Scotty said. Mom scolded him with her eyes for saying the words, but she permitted him to continue without interruption. “They call us vulgar names, make disgusting references to what they have to do, and generally make it unpleasant to have to interact with them.”

“We already agreed to be polite, Sir. So, no more cuss words. Okay?” my sister said.

“Yes, and that’s a wonderful INTENTION, but can you commit to it?”

“Absolutely,” we agreed.

“You committed to getting up at 5:00 am with the IDLE threat that if you failed to do what you say, I can dump water over your head. I am just asking that you make a similar commitment here.”

“What is the commitment, Sir?”

“Well, what does it matter? Why would you worry if you can stand here and say that you won’t run afoul of it because you will never accidentally fall back on vulgar habits?”

“Fine, what is it, Sir?” my sister said. I wished she had cussed just then – it would have helped hammer home the point.