Both of the children called me bro, and I thought my head was going to explode. They have tossed out various non-Mom names in my direction over the years. Most of the time, those names were anger-related and not able to be addressed in a family column. Let your imagination go wild.

I understand the term has changed from an ’80s frat boy to a casual reference to any friend, but I feel the condescension when my children address me as such. Do they really view me as a friend, or are they trying to get something out of me? I am torn and contemplate their end game.

There was a time when both children experimented with calling me by my first name. I’m not the casual type. I don’t expect my children to address other parents by their first names, and I certainly don’t expect my children to call me by mine. It was a passing phase because I decided if they wanted to use my first name, I wouldn’t have to do their expected “mom” things, like provide food or shelter. Don’t worry. No children were mistreated.

I wanted my kids to understand that we weren’t friends or strangers but a family unit. To me, words matter. They may continue to refer to me by my first name (as an act of defiance) to their friends, but at home, my husband and I are “Mom and Dad.”

There is nothing wrong with other parents having their children call them by their first names. It’s their decision. That is one of many things that make each family unit unique. If my children had grown up using our individual names, then it would be different. My children usually use first names or slang at the worst times, when they are angry or defiant.

I asked my kid to run some errands and she flippantly asked me to wait a second, with a side dish of “Bro.” Nothing makes me want to have my children do more chores than being called Bro. Of course, after my daughter saluted me and said, “Aye, aye,” I may have changed my mind.