All of my childhood I was called Marty. Until I reached the sixth grade. Then, because Marty rhymes with a word that we got our mouths washed out with soap if we used it, I went to Debbie. (To help clear up any confusion for you dear readers my full name is Deborah Marlene. Yes, I know my husband calls me Martha and it's not my name either but really it's just his way of saying 'darling' or 'dear' so it really kind of weirds me out when another man calls me that.) Anyway, everyone agreed to my name change except for my Father who declared he had helped bring me into this world and he'd call me whatever he wanted. Not a problem, because well, yea he had a point. It only became a tiny tiny issue when a woman from our church invited our family over for dinner and asked if the twins would be there. To which my Mother responded with all the confusion a non-twin bearing mother would have. The poor woman would hear my Dad call me Marty and everyone else in the family call me Debbie...she thought we were twins that just really didn't get along very well.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
But, I digress. I just wanted to give you a little back story before I shared a recent conversation we've had with Sam.
Sam: "I'm embarrassed by a name with only one signal."
Sam: "Just Sam. I want you to call me by my full name."
Us: "Oh, you mean a name with one syllable! You want us to call you Samuel?"
The name thing...I guess it sorta runs in the family.