Beware: I am about to generalize.
Minnesotans are known for being nice. An old joke goes: four Minnesotans were found dead at a four-way-stop. Apparently they froze to death waiting and motioning 'No! YOU go!' [As an aside, I have to admit, that people really do this - NO! You go!- thing with their hands. It was a welcome change from DC where a honk was impending if you hesitated even a nanosecond once the green light changed.]
The flip-side of this niceness is, in my opinion, this weird passive-aggressive speak.
The SYO has adroitly acquired this subtle dialect.
This is not new. What is new is my campaign to vanquish it.
The dialect manifests itself in several ways, and becomes more sophisticated over time (MRM#1 regularly refers to his own mother as 'cunning and baffling').
Last night, the SYO came into our room (2am-ish): There is a pee stain on my bed.
Me: Oh, you had an accident? No big deal.
Other times, it looks more like this:
SYO [in bathroom, presumably on toilet, discovering an empty roll at a completely inopportune time]: TOILET PAPER!
Me: No response.
SYO: THERE'S NO TOILET PAPER!
Me: Oh?
SYO: GET ME SOME TOILET PAPER!
Me [this training is multi-faceted]: You're still missing something in your request!
SYO: GET ME SOME TOILET PAPER. . . . PUH-LEASE!
Big, on the other side of the spectrum seems revulsed by language and communication. At least of the English/North American variety. I can't even get a 'bye-bye' out of him.
The other day though, I half expected to find him head down, on knees facing Mecca after I heard a distinct: Insh' Allah! Allah Akbar!
At least it's not 'NO! YOU go!'
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