My husband is a pretty conservative, traditional kind of guy. His choices of names for our kids have been highly uninteresting. I would have loved actually naming them Austin, Charlotte, and Dallas, but alas, he was more interested in names like John, Jacob, and probably would have loved Bob. Simple, plain, strong (he says). BORING (I say).
Anyhow, while I consented to the names given our first two children, I didn't really love them. I decided I would get my way on the name thing for #3. For the record, I did. It took me four days and evidently I also sold my soul to the devil: I said he could buy 10 new guns if he let me have "my" name.
Unfortunately, I have no recollection of this event. He says it is proof that even when you are emotionally wrapped up in something you still can't sell your soul to the devil (as I did in this case, evidently). And here I thought he was being a loving husband, giving me my way as solace for the most horrible (of the three) labor events.
Remember how I said it has been guns, guns, guns nonstop? I guess it's still not stopping any time soon.... sigh...
2 hours ago