Alyssa told me last night that she needed help with her homework. I managed not to sigh and instead nodded. I just hoped it wasn’t math. I am not a fan of math but I don’t want to color her opinion of the subject so I usually try to keep my trap shut when I’m helping her with her math homework.
I was washing dishes when she came in and told me that the homework she needed help with was the story of how she got her name.
Huh. Okay. That’s easy.
She wrote while I spoke.
“A couple of months before I was born (I spoke as if she were speaking so that it was easier for her to write this story from a first person point of view.) my dad was working third shift. He came home on night and suggested the name Alyssa. My mom, who’d been sound asleep when he asked the question, muttered, ‘It’s on my list.’ From that point forward, my dad refused to discuss any names at all, since Alyssa was the name he liked and it was on my mom’s list. So Alyssa it was.
“My middle name is Jean. My mom’s middle name is Gean. She decided to spell my name with a J because my dad’s middle name is James and she thought it was kind of cool to mix their two middle names and spell Jean correctly.”
The next question was, “What was I going to be named if I’d been the opposite gender?”
This one was easy too. I told her, “Ian William.”
She nodded, “Cool. Thanks Mom.”
Damn, I wish all her homework was this easy.
Tom, from the other room, protested at my telling of Alyssa’s naming story. He didn’t remember refusing to discuss any other names once Alyssa had been suggested. I informed him that my telling of the story was correct and suggested that he think really hard about it and get back to me. He reported back about five minutes later that my telling was probably correct.
Yes. Thanks. I know.