You’ve met Mr. Hodgson. The British hero of mine. His wife also has a dear place in my heart and has for some time. I call her “that mean old lady.” It’s a term of endearment and deep affection. No, that is not facetious.
You see, a few years ago, just after they moved over from England, I was in our local Christian bookstore and Mrs. Hodgson was there chatting with my neighbor. You know, the one Mr. Hodgson charmingly calls, “Our Lynn?” She was telling the story about someone at their church calling her “that mean old lady.”
I was appalled. However, Mrs. Hodgson had a sense of humor about it and I decided that it must be one of those hyperbole type things. You know, how guys will call a tall kid shorty or an overweight one ‘tiny’ or something like that? Well, I decided that must be what this is about. And so, ever since then, I’ve called her “That Mean Old Lady.”
It’s kind of stuck too. She now sees me and says, “That Mean Old Lady” is here. I expect if she ever calls me on the phone it’ll be, “Hello Chautona, this is ‘that mean old lady’, I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar?” You know, all casual and friendly like.
Honestly, I still shake my head at the idea anyone could ever say that about Mrs. Hodgson. She’s sweet, funny, and full of laughter. She doesn’t even LOOK remotely unkind or even grumpy. She has a bright smiling face that just brightens your day to see it.
I could change her nickname. I could call her “That Sweet Young Thing” or “Lynn’s Lovely Mum” or something like that but you know, once you’ve got a darling and unique nick name, you really shouldn’t change it.
So, for now, she’ll remain the world’s most lovable, endearing, kind, and uberly British, “Mean Old Lady.”
*pssst… love you gal!***