Huh?

More naming problems. Naming a child is kind of a big deal, and so parents usually keep that process a secret, lying in bed late at night whispering, "Gregory? Samantha? Johnathan?" to each other until the husband attempts to lobotomize himself. The concern that S has is apparently that everyone else is somehow going to interfere with the naming and say something like, "Oh, I once knew a methusala in high school and that guy was a real dick." And we'll just end up crossing every name we could ever think of off the list. Guess what? I don't care.

I already tried to sell the naming rights Rumplestiltskin style, (and yes, I realize that it wasn't a story about naming a baby but go with me, it almost works. Although what the hell was old Rumpy going to do with the heir anyway?) to my brother in exchange for a privacy fence. Although, I did inform him that I was holding out for old stone wall.

Because once you have old stone wall you can really start gardening in earnest. And inviting over kids who think they have polio or something, but then they'll discover that what the needed more than a vaccine was to plant some ripe cherry red tomatoes. And everyone will start wandering into your secret garden and finding it's like a restorative place full of childhood joy, and maybe you'll put in a tree somewhere that kids can climb up on and sit on a limb, and look over the old stone wall at the street, or the sky or whatever.

Invariably the kids will age and you'll find yourself staring out the window with rheumy eyes at your teenage kids lighting up a joint against the old stone wall, while one of their friends stands in your freshly planted herb garden, and you'll go outside and yell at him, "Lance, (and now way is this f-ing kid's name Lance, but you don't care) get the hell out of my herb garden." And your son/daughter will be embarrassed and claim that you are turning them into a social pariah, and your eyes will clear up and you'll be proud that you fathered a child who knows how to use a word like pariah.

S: What about Kayle?

M: Kayle? Do you want our daughter running around with some low cut tank top heading up the cheer squad and dating guys who are twice as dumb as she is because their the only one's with enough social standing to feel comfortable asking her out? Is that what you want for our daughter?

M: I like Mia. Mia is that type of girl who is cute and sits in the back of class with a pair of glasses and secret is holding a candle for William Thackeray the laws of nature be damned. That's the sort of girl I want.

Note: We do not yet know the gender, but we're at sea without a paddle when it comes to boys names.

S: I like Ashleigh?

M: Ashley? Ashley? Ashley could be anything. She could be like the girl who is good at science and math but really knows her English, and how to play cool with the in crowd but still, you know, find time to hang out with the less fortunate, socially speaking. The type of girl who could be anything? Why would you wish such a life of indecision on our offspring? It's better just to be good at one thing.

S: You're kind of overreacting to this name thing.

M: Am I?

Because this song is nice.
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