When Hal and I finally decided
on the first name of our unborn baby girl, I was relieved. Especially
because the name was my idea, and wasn't something Hal (or anyone else
for that matter) would have figured to be a name at all. The name grew
on him like a weed and pretty soon, there wasn't a doubt in either of
our minds that it was the right name. It felt right much like Archer
did. Her middle name? Well, that's a whole 'notha story.
There
were two middle names I loved. Two middle names that I felt fit with
the first name we decided on. Two middle names to honor two people I
adored.
"Two middle names? No way! She's not having two middle names!"
"But YES! She has to! It sounds so pretty! And the names totally flow!"
"NO! Archer only has one middle name! Everyone only has ONE middle name."
"Nu-uh.
Lots of people have two middle names. OR TEN! It doesn't even matter
anyway what everyone is doing. Jesus, Hal. What are you, some kind of
lemming?"
"Two middle names sounds pretentious."
"Classic, you mean. Elegant and classic."
"You're insane."
"Pleeeeeeeaaaaseeeeee???"
"No! You already chose the first name! No."
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