The girls love to ask my Mom about “The Olden Days”. Swear to God, they think she lived in the time of Lincoln, if not Da Vinci. Luckily, she has a great memory and loves to indulge their curiosities. The other day, they asked her about how she came about naming her children. Most of the stories she told I already knew, probably from asking them myself years ago. However, I heard a new one…about my name.
Being the last of six children, you would think they would have had a name all picked out and ready to go well before my birth. Nope. After so many kids, they either ran out of names or were so bored with the exercise of naming a child they didn’t bother. So I was born and remained un-named for a few days. Finally, my Mom said, “We’ve got to name this baby before we leave the hospital!”
I was horrified to find out they had actually been considering Donna or Shelia. I am NOT a Donna or Shelia type of girl. Thank God they came to their senses!
This is yet another reason I am grateful for being back in the SL,UT. Had we not come back here, my girls would not get the chance to ask the questions and hear the stories. Most of the stories are good. The one about me being a hypochondriac as a child is just a blatant lie (or so I told my kids). Of course, I totally remember the day I asked my 1st grade teacher what that word meant. Boy, did my family get an earful that night!
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