A few years ago, my friend Allison got married. Her wedding is famous for two things. The first is a bridesmaid-dress hemming party on the night before the wedding.
The other us that although it was the King-Leary wedding, Allison and her husband did not take my suggestions to hyphenate their name. I don’t know why not.
Time marches on, and now Allison and her husband are expecting a baby! I was pretty excited about it (stuffing my fingers in my ears and singing loudly when she attempted to tell me any pregnancy details, but excited nonetheless). I asked her if she’d name her future baby Goneril or Regan or Cordelia. She said no. Actually, I think she said something about not subjecting her child to years of torment just to amuse me. Whatever.
Then she said that Joseph was a good family name on both sides, but she won’t be naming the baby Joe King either.
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I love the mental image of you sticking your fingers in your ear and singing loudly. It feels… practiced.
And that? Is why Allison loves me.