Names

Now that we know we’re having a boy child, the question of the day is “have you thought about names?” This question led me to ponder the stereotypical life cycle questions posed to and by stereotypical, middle-class hetero Americans. Not that I mind these types of questions—on the contrary, I ask them frequently myself. Most of them actually have the potential to be quite profound—if the inquisitor truly wants to hear the answers. Just for fun, I’m also going to interject the questions/comments I actually want to ask instead…starting with, say, an elementary school aged child…

“How’s school going?”
Do you ever wet your pants in gym class?
“How does it feel to be ten years old?”
Isn’t it time you stop picking your nose?
“Are you enjoying high school?”
Are you one of the cool kids, or not-so-much?
“Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?”
You’re totally doing it, aren’t you!?
“How’s college?”
If you don’t stop doing it all the time, you’re going to flunk out!
“What kind of career are you thinking about?”
No one’s going to hire you if you don’t stop picking your nose.
“So when are you going to get married?”
Am I going to be invited? Do I have to buy you something? Are you doing it a lot?
“How’s married life?”
Are you still doing it?
“Are you going to have kids?”
Did you know you have to do it to have kids?
"When are you due?”
You guys do still do it!
“How are you feeling?”
Are you still able to do it?
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
Either way, I really hope it doesn’t look like your husband.
“Have you thought about names?”
Please don’t name your child that.
“Are you going to have more kids?”
Are you going to keep doing it?
“Where are your kids thinking about going to college?”
Don’t you think it’s time they stopped picking their nose?
“Have you thought about retirement?”
You’re getting up there, aren’t you? Are you still doing it?
“How was your colonoscopy?”
Did the doctor wink at you? Was there poo? Did you like it?
“So do you have any grandkids yet?”
That means your kids are doing it!
“Have you thought about downsizing?”
You’re really getting up there. You should start giving away stuff. Could I have some of it?
“How was your surgery?”
Am I in your will? Could I be?
“So do you have any great-grandkids yet?”
What’s it like to be so old? Do you know who I am? Are you still doing it?
Hello?
Helloooo?!? Uhoh…

I’d now like to apologize for the disturbing keyhole into my psyche. If you didn’t know already, I’m a twelve-year-old boy trapped inside a 34-year-old pregnant lady.

We have thought about names. We’ve been calling our little fetus Max for a few months, although we’re not sure if that will be his post-gestation name or not. My in utero name was Fergie, which I recently found out was a salute to Ferguson Jenkins, an African American baseball player. I tried calling Max, Fergie Jr. for a few days, but it didn’t really stick.

Names are hard. Scott and I both like the idea of using family names, but we can’t agree on any. And there’s a part of me that really likes the idea of giving our little one a fresh name of his own, with nothing to live up (or down) to.

If you haven’t already had enough dialogue in this entry, here’s a sample of our name discussions:

Me: How about Sawyer?”
Scott: Maybe if it didn’t reflect your crush on the dude from Lost.
Me: I’m totally over that. What about Finn?
Scott: Too Irish.
Me: But you’re like, 90% Irish!
Scott: How about Benson?
Me: Like Robert Guillome?
Scott: Kale?
Me: I sort of like that.
Me: Could we name him Casey?
Scott: Too sporty.
Me: But you’re super sporty spice!
Scott: I still sort of like Max. But I don’t really like Maxwell. Or Maximillian.
Me: Same here.
Scott: How about Mad Max?
Me: Beyond Thunderdome, baby.
Me: How about Kale?
Scott: No, that’s a vegetable.
Me: But you just suggested it!
Me: How about Erico, after our kitty Erica?
Scott: Why would it be Erico and not Eric?
Me: Oh, yeah. Good point.
Scott: How about Kale?
Me: Sigh...

So, no names yet. We might just pick a few and wait to see what the baby looks like. Should we put BloodyMcgooerson on our short list?