The Little Gentleman Speaks

In her comments here, Lisa says "My mother would kill me if I 'dropped a door' on somebody." I was commenting that, despite the greater surface brusqueness of New Englanders compared to Southerners, I've never met with anything but politeness while exiting a Dunkin Donuts. (Mmm . . . iced coffee . . .)

My Southern-born mother and Lisa's (New England-born?) mom must have been taking lessons from the same Parents' Playbook. My mother always taught my brother and me that when it comes to doors, the rule isn't "ladies first," it's "Whoever reaches the door first holds the door. Period." My brother and I took this to heart, which meant we often held doors not only for our own family, but for anyone else who happened to be entering or leaving a building at that moment. People always smiled especially nicely at my brother, who was often called "the little gentleman" of the family because he looked like an angel and had impeccable manners.

So it was with great pleasure that I often caught a look of fleeting shame and shock on the faces of those people ungracious enough to forget to say "thank you" to the Little Gentleman. Suddenly, out of that cute face would come the words (very loudly and with more than a little sarcasm), "YOU'RE WELCOME!!"

A few would mumble an embarrassed "thanks, kid" and a few looked annoyed, but they all knew they'd been caught. As the four-years-younger sister, I always looked on my brother with awe at those moments. Even now, sometimes, I still do.