The name game

I really like naming things. REALLY like it.

When I was little my sister and I collected all 12 of the “birthday month dolls” in a series. I named them all – hers included. First and middle names, and wrote them on address labels and stuck them on the bottom of their wooden pedestals so I would remember the lovely names I selected for them.

I named all the baby kittens and baby horses and stick horses and 4-H animals and my brothers’ dogs. I even name my cars.

So it should go without saying I’m excited about naming this baby.

Travis on the other hand, is more what you would call amused with naming this baby.

Our conversations go something like this:

Tamara:                What do you think about _______ for a name.

Travis:                   Um … no.

Tamara:                What do you think about ________.

Travis:                   No way.

Tamara:                What are your favorite names?

Travis:                   (Long pause.) How about Lia-Myrah. (Long pause … then laughter.)

Tamara:                Travis, this is supposed to be serious.

His favorite suggestion so far is McClintock. For a boy OR a girl. As in the John Wayne movie, McClintock!, most well-known for the line, “Heeeeeeeeeeeeey McClintock! Where the WHICKEY (whiskey)!!!”

I’ve made the mistake of telling several people this, and he has actually gotten some votes on his side. Scary.

One time Travis heard the reference to Lefty Frizzell, the ’70s country singer. He became obsessed with the idea that we should have two boys and name one Lefty and one Frizzell. The funniest part was he kept mispronouncing Frizzell as “FRIZZ-el” … as in, rhymes with “sizzle.”

When he finished laughing, I banned him from ever having anything to do with naming our future children.

Now here we are.

I finally conceded if it’s a boy, he can name it, and if it’s a girl, I get to name it. However, I get to pick middle names on both. My logic is he already picked the last name of both (Choat) and he gets the boy first name, which equals three out of six slots. So, I get the other three. The logic may be a stretch, but the math seems sound.

I’m sure when the child gets here, we will both agree on a perfectly lovely name.

And then I’ll write it on a sticky label and put it on its bottom … so Travis can’t change it.

Lefty Frizzell probably had no clue he would inspire not one, but two potential namesakes.