name games

Lo’s post reminded me of the conniptions Mother would go into upon hearing prospective names for her grandchildren. She doesn’t like many of the names, at least at first. Then they grow popular among the general public (especially the names of T’s children, she’s the most creative in that department), and, after a time, they seem to grow finally upon her, as children do. I thought of course, of the kiddo’s own seven syllabled, 26 lettered mouthful of a full name, which I’d chosen almost five years ago, now. Will she hate me for that? I think it sounds wonderful off the tongue, all aristocratically English, until one gets to her last name. But even then, it only garnishes it with some spice (think….paprika…hey, there’s a name that would top Apple) and intrigue, as though the family married into a now defunct old Polish royal court or something. I think I’ll start calling her Duchess.

Apples and paprika. Food again. Yes, here we go… today, in the dead of winter, the kiddo’s luncheon request consisted of potato salad, strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries (the blueberries were sold out, townwide. Wonder why?). She at least settled for mac and cheese for dinner.

We got a new alarm clock, after I’d decided that I will not ever again wake to a droning buzzer in this lifetime. It has a choice of four sounds…ocean, brook, forest, or windchimes. Windchimes are the popular choice, though I’m not quite sure how this will fare in the long run. The kiddo likes to use the sleep option to play as we’re going to bed, and so far, it’s like laying awake in some crazy bellfry, a place where one might find Freddy Kreuger’s mother lurking about, wringing her hands over her son’s damned and evil soul.

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1 Response to “name games”


  1. 1 Doktor Holocaust January 28, 2008 at 7:27 am

    ah, poor old Mary Helena Amanda Kreuger, volunteered at a mental institution because she was a nun and wanted to help people, and all she got for her troubles were a body’s worth of lacerations, two days in her own private hell, and a son that no one will ever forget, the Son of a Hundred Maniacs.

    I prefer buzzer alarm clocks. whne I was a lad, i used to sleep with music on, so nothing short of an obnoxious buzzer will get me out of bed, ven though my alarm clock is perfectly capable of playing any music I like.


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