Moralizing

Friends, the Matron has restrained from doing so until this point. Moralizing that is. Each to him or herself or indeterminate gendered self, right? That's all groovy with her. Beyond do unto others, establishing a moral code is pretty rough.

Except for ONE THING. The bane of her existence -- 'tone of voice.' Let's just straddle that phrase: bane of her existence. And she's moralizing.

He Who Cannot Be Named: "Why can't I go to the batting cage right now instead of waiting for you to make dinner?" Key? This is not a query but a battle call, freighted with annoyance at -- of all things-- being inconvenienced by dinner.

Scarlett: "Why can't I have a peanut butter sandwich in my lunch instead of turkey?" Key? Now, this could be a very benign question. Consider how one orders food in a restaurant.

Patron to waiter: "May I please have a peanut butter sandwich and forgo the turkey?"

Waiter: "Of course!"

Instead, at the Matron's house. . . .

"Why can't I have a peanut butter sandwich instead of turkey?"

Matron: "Why are you yelling at me as if I'm the indentured servant on a ship in the 18th century?"

Yes, she says things like that to her children. She likes to think they'll thank her for that someday.

Merrick: "Whewe awe my gween pants!!!!!"

Now, this question more or less sounds like someone announcing nuclear death for the entire planet -- with rage.

Matron, over and over and over and over again: "Can you say that in a polite or neutral tone of voice?" Now, she doesn't pull out this line when her children are genuinely emotional or upset -- a disappointment, denial, fear, uncertainty, etc. Just when there's, well, a demand.

HWCBN: "You and tone of voice. I'll remember that until the day I die."

Matron: "Pardon me? Can you say that in the same tone of voice you'd use for a teacher?"

Because, dear reader? You and the Matron know that we're the primary teachers.