I don’t use my maiden name. When I married it was gone. I wasn’t that much of a feminist. I will not tell you what it is. Not because of the privacy thing. I figure if you really want to know it, if you are that curious, it isn’t hard to find out, just look on Facebook. I will not tell because anytime I say my maiden name in public this little fear runs through me.
I imagine the OK-Corral. Some ugly looking, mustache, gun totting cowboy snarls at me, eyes bulging. “What did you say your name was partner?”
That fear that someone in my family “wronged somebody.” Not that we are evil people. No, we are people with an hardy appetite for devil’s nectar and the big mouths to drink that sweet, sweet juice from. Fun-loving no hold back kind of people
This is made clear by the recent visit from my dad. No-holds-barred-big-mouth-kinda guy. He says what he means and he means what he says. He cusses and swears like a sailor on leave. With two days to live. It is gets him in trouble. Lil’ Boy even said “Grandpa “S” you have a dirty mouth.”
My dad laughs. It is a habit that will never be broken. He is set in his ways. He is his name.
Honestly, sometimes I miss my given name. There was a distinction. If you said my name people knew who I was. My maiden name is different. You probably don’t know anyone with this last name. And if you do we are probably related-in a hillbilly sister, cousin, brother, grandma kind-of way.
I love my name now. It is enough to keep people from saying “Huh? What did you say!” I can live a secret life in the shadow like the Smith’s, Johnson and White’s of the world. My name isn’t misspelled. And best of all it is the name I share with the Lil’ Ones….I think I’ll keep it!
