MY MY

stop say that

The day I realized there’s no n in restaurateur (where’d it go?) was the same day I saw an n where I didn’t expect to on a sign in Midtown: Tobacconist (there it is).

A similar but more annoying kind of “too much and not enough” is happening with my. If you refer to your mother as Mom when you’re talking to me (“So I called Mom”), I’ll feel myself receding into the distance. I am a person, and we are not siblings. Your mother, your mom.

And on the flip side, nothing’s more diagnostic of Main Character Energy than mying the world as yours, as in “my bodega.”