We never had a house mother. House isn't big enough really to justify one. Maybe that'll change someday -- I really hope it does someday.
My father's fraternity had a house mom. A lady named "Bubbles" (I guess this was a name old ladies actually would go by in the mid 60's?)
Back then, pledges got to eat with the house mother. Every meal was an intense course in etiquette. Bubbles would hastily point out any imperfect manners such as not holding your hand in front of the lemon when it's being squeezed, improper placement of utensils, etc. Retribution from Bubbles would probably earn you retribution from the actives.
At any rate, Bubbles' lessons still haunt me to this day. Whenever dining with my dad, it's "Bubbles did this or that."
But of course, now, my table manners are impeccable. Eating where I usually eat with the people I usually eat with, I probably look like I have OCD or something
Thanks Bubbles.
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