The Return of the Nana
I change names out of humor. That and I love to name things.
Sometimes the humor is obvious. The Squeaker is so named because, well, she squeaks. And most everyone gets that because that’s what babies do. They squeak.
More often the humor is only obvious to a limited number of people; for example P.Pie’s brother’s wife is Glitter Barbie. Everyone on P.Pie’s side of the family gets it and thinks it’s funny, even Glitter Barbie (I think).
And every once in a while humor is so obscure, only I get it. Like when I gave an ex-girlfriend the moniker Penny Lane. Unless you’re inside my head, you couldn’t imagine why that’s even remotely funny. Not even the ex would get that joke.
For the most part they have become part of the family’s everyday vernacular, as well as for many a reader. I even briefly considered changing the name of the blog, but the general consensus was to keep the name.
So name changes are not something that I enter into lightly. However, a name change can be in order. And such is the case with P.Pie’s mom, The General. Who, as it happens, was in town again this weekend to see The Squeaker.
The General has a ‘grandmother’ name that all the grandkids call her. And not just grandkids; at one time or another, we’ve all called her by the ‘grandmother’ name. So rather than confuse the kids when they grow up and read this, we’re changing her nom de plume.
From this day forward, P.Pie’s mom will be known as ‘Nana’.
Like the dog that you get from the pound, I will occasionally revert to calling her The General.
I was around before the grandkids, so I reserve that right.
[ed. note: I am not calling my mother-in-law a dog; if you have a better example, I’m open to suggestions.]