“Do you like the name Vesper?”
“We are not calling her Vesper!”
“Don’t you like it?”
“I do not.”
We are discussing names for the next member of our clan. All lady names as it has been confirmed that I am soon to be surrounded by tiny women of varying miniature statures. A fact, of which I am delighted.
Anyway, back to the name Vesper.
“Well I love it.” I say.
“It’s not a name. It’s a bike.” replies Zsuzsa.
“It is a name! Vesper Lynd! Eva Green’s character in Casino Royale.”
“It is not a real name!”
Zsuzsa then says something else, but I have to be honest, I’m not listening as I’m now too busy googling if Vesper is a real name.
“Look!” I say, defiantly thrusting my fruit inspired smartphone in Zsuzsa’s face. “It’s latin. Means Evening Star.”
“NO!” replies Zsuzsa with even more defiance.
We’re currently standing in the playground in silence while our little cub happily runs around like a maniac, wearing an “I Love Bowie” t-shirt. Because obviously, like every other two year old, she’s a big fan of David Bowie.
“I know! Bowie! Little Bowie Hutchins?” I excitedly suggest.
“Okay. What about Alabama?”
“Little Bam Bam! It’s perfect, no?”
“If any daughter of mine is called Alabama, I will cut you a new arsehole.”
I will take this as a definite maybe.
“We have a perfectly good selection of names already. There’s no need for more.” adds Zsuzsa.
“Are you referring to the Mila name shortlist?” I ask.
“Yes! Loads of good names on there. We should pick from that. I want her to have a proper name. Not named after a bike or anything like that.”
I sigh, dejected. These were not the words I was seeking.
“But honey, you know how much I love naming humans.” I plead.
Zsuzsa just shrugs.
It’s true. I love naming humans. This passion was something I discovered just over two years ago when I named my very first human. One sweet taste of the naming nectar and I was hooked. I need to name more humans to satisfy my insatiable craving. In many ways it’s a shame that we are having a girl as against all conceivable odds, I had somehow convinced my beloved wife to agree to name a baby boy Zlatan. Zlatan! That would likely have satisfied my naming cravings for the foreseeable future. But it’s another little lady and I don’t think she’d appreciate being called Zlatan.
“I vetoed that one two years ago!”
So, I guess the moral of this story is, whatever your name will eventually be little human lady, I guess you should probably thank your mother.