I love my grandma. She's 83 years old and though I wouldn't say she's still sharp as a tack, she's still 'all there' - perhaps as sharp as a dull knife is a good way to describe her. But sometimes, she just leaves me scratching my head and rolling my eyes.
Just a few hours after my son was born a few months ago, I started the time-consuming task of calling all of my relatives and friends to share the great news. When I reached grandma, she was delighted to hear that her great-grandson had arrived without complication and eagerly inquired about his weight and length, the color of his eyes and hair, and how he was feeding. I answered all of her questions and was puzzled when she started to bid farewell.
Don't you want to know his name? I asked, confused.
Grandma was quiet for a moment before responding affirmatively. I have no idea if she'd merely forgotten to ask and was embarrassed or what. For the record, she loves my daughter's name so there were no grounds for her to assume we'd chosen a bad name.
I proudly shared his name: Logan. She fell silent yet again for a second before abruptly exclaiming: Young people sure are picking strange names for their babies these days, aren't they?
Nice, eh?
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Comments: 8
the.name..and..your.wit.BTW
Logan is a great name but maybe not familiar to her.
I like Logan, I wanted to use it at one time but my husband didn't. I went through the name problem with my mother in law when I had my first baby, Jessie. Her nme is actually Jesslyn, but we call her Jessie. I wish now that I had just named her Jessie and been done with it, I wouldn't have had to deal with the mother in law about it for 18 months until Jessie straightened her out herself by not coming when mother in law called her. I learned though, and gave my other two the exact names we wanted to call them.