Naming a baby with Christopher is probably the most frustrating thing ever. Because he never tells me what names he likes, until maybe the baby is seven hours old and I’m tired and hormonal and he says something like, “His name is Gavin Christopher.” And I say, “Heck no, we’re naming him Benjamin.” And we argue for three days and he wins that one. Or he says, “I don’t hate it.” Which means okay. As in, “How about Megan?” “I don’t hate it.” “Benjamin Thomas?” “I don’t hate it.”
So now that I know this kid is a boy, I’m ready to name him. Naming a baby before he is born is not unheard of. In fact, why the heck not? So I make this list of 10 or so boy names, and show it to Christopher. He says, “The name I want is on the list.”
But he will not tell me which name it is! What the heck is wrong with him?
Speaking of names, I met this kid at Gavin’s school today. He’s adorable, reminds me of a seven-year-old Devin. His name is Zim. Today I asked him what Zim was short for.
“Zimmerman Macdowell Saks the Sixteenth,” he replied. “The 16th?!” “Yep.” More classic Buckhead.