About a week ago, I was at the open gym at the local community center with Wee One, and I heard one mom refer to her cherubic daughter as “little woman.” As in. “Come on, little woman, we’re going home.” I think that sounds cute! We call boy children “little man,” and this is just another kind of endearment.
Yet at the same time, when I actually say it or imagine myself using it with WO, it doesn’t seem right. First, it reminds me of the book and movie. Then also, it just sounds diminutive. “Let me check in with the little woman.” A chauvinistic husband may say in reference to his wife.
Patriarchy ruins everything. I don’t know if I’ll really be able to say that to my girl. But I still might try.
What terms of endearment do you like? Did you have one as a child?
5 thoughts on “Little Woman”
I don’t think anyone liked me enough as a child to give me a nickname. My parents called me Frederick because they thought everyone would adopt the abbreviated ‘Ricky’. They didn’t. They called me Fred. I am sure my mother never got over it, and resented me to the last because of it. Names are so important, aren’t they?
Oh no! Did they call you Ricky? All the Rickys I’ve known over time have been Richards, now that I think about it. What name did you prefer?
I don’t mind Fred. As a youth, though, I very much minded. We all agreed to take my middle name (William) and call me ‘Bill’. That worked. Now I use Frederick, or Fred, or Bill, depending on who I am speaking to. Is this how split personalities begin, do you think?
With a true split personality, I think your names would be more divergent. Like Fred, Sliver, and Bartholomew. Although I’ll have you know, I have a character named Frederick (full name only, unless people are teasing him.) He’s my protagonist’s older brother so he’s a supporting role, but I love him. He’s a bit of a scamp.
And actually, I was thinking about this last night, I had a particular client with multiple personalities. One day he cam to me with several sheets of paper containing a dialogue between them all, which I “asked him to.” (I did? How clever of me.) There was one silent one with no name who… was just silent. There was Joker, who just laughed at him, and sometimes loud enough to drown out the talkative personality, Balthazar. Balthazar told him bad negative things about himself. It was fascinating and really gave me insight in working with him.