My sister Kim called (actually she texted) yesterday and said she was in town and asked if I wanted to go meet our mom for lunch. It was going to be a surprise for my mom because she didn't know Kim was in town. My mom works at the headquarters for the LDS (Mormon) church. It's the tallest building in Utah, boasting 26 floors. (So far, none of this has much to do with the story. That's how most of my stories go. Just ask my husband. I tell stories that last too long. I just like to paint a picture in your head. I want you to SEE what I'm telling you.)
So I drive up to Salt Lake with Harley. My mom said I had to come up to her floor so everyone could see how cute he's gotten. When I got there a gal she works with (not Cheryl) came out of her cubicle to see Harley. He was in his stroller and wearing his overalls which made him look older for some reason. Well this woman asks how old is he.
"He's 7 1/2 months", I tell her.
"NO. WAY. You're kidding me. I would have guessed 15-18 months at LEAST!!!"
Me: "Nope. Not even 8 months, yet."
Her: "HE'S HUGE!!!!!"
K, he's really not. He's tall, yes. But he's not chunky. He's got a full mop of really blond hair which might make him look older but TEN months older? I don't think so.
So then another gal comes by and is looking upon his adorableness and the first woman says, "how old do you think he is?"
She says, "I'd say about 8 months."
First woman: "You think so? No way. He looks way older than that. He's so big!!!"
At this point I'm just feeling embarrassed for this woman because she's just making a jackass out of herself (that's the swear word I wanted to use in the title). Then we start talking about his name. My mom says, "this is our little Harley David."
Woman: "WHAT??? You didn't. How do you spell it?"
Me: "Exactly the way it should be spelled. Just like the motorcycle."
Her: "You didn't really do that to him, did you?"
Me: "Yes. I didn't want him to have to spell his name for people his whole life, so I spelled it the way it sounds." (My first two kids have a last name that is spelled NOTHING like how it sounds so I did them the same favor. I spelled their first names just how they should be spelled because they will have to spell their last name for people their whole lives. My wish for my daughter is that she marries a guy with the last name of "Smith" or something.)
So she proceeds to go on and on about how could I do that to him and he's the biggest baby ever. Why do people feel like they can say that kind of stuff? Clearly, this woman is lacking in social skills. (My mother has told me many a story.) But come on!! Is it because Harley doesn't understand what she's saying about him? Was she trying to be funny? Fortunately, I have a very thick skin and I KNOW Harley is absolutely adorable and I KNOW he's tall but he's not a giant and I KNOW he's got a name that's a little unusual (don't worry, my last name isn't "son") so I didn't get offended. His name has a meaning behind it. On Tav's and my first date we went for a ride on his Harley. It was the most perfect first date in the history of first dates. We rode over the Alpine Loop and stopped at Sundance at his cabin and ate dinner at the restaurant there. It was AWESOME! Since that day, (and still) my most favorite place to be in the whole world is behind Tavis on the Harley. Tav's dad's name is David. Tavis always knew he'd give his first born son the middle name of David. So what if his first name ended up being Harley? Is that OUR fault? Oh. I guess, technically, it is.
In this life we're given just a very few privileges. Naming our kids whatever we want to name this is one of them. Giving people a rack of crap about those names, is not.