Just about every day, something happens that makes me shake my head and think, “You can’t make this stuff up.”
Sometimes I even use a stronger word than “stuff.”
Today was one of those days.
Basil and I are both used to people mangling our names. Mine is often coerced in an effort to be Teresa (not my name; I am, in fact, Terri), or it is embellished with a wide array of Rs, the occasional Y or even IE at the end.
Basil has been Basile, Vasil, even Bazaleel on a junk mail envelope we had stuck to the fridge for a bit. (It provided comic relief on a regular basis.)
And don’t get started on our surnames. I spent years listening to teachers tell the class about the silent “e” at the end of words only to have them add it to the end of my maiden name, Salvatore. And now we endure Vaneck, Van Eck and, in today’s mail, Van Ech.
And wait until you get a load of what it was on:
Yup. We can order an array of garments with someone else’s name on them.
By Oct. 25.
The back of the postcard urges us to “surprise a loved one or outfit a family reunion!”
A hoodie for $34.99, long-sleeve T just $15.99.
All I can think is: Why???
It’s true that I learn untold lessons from being part of this family every day, some of them frankly unmentionable.
But I think I’ll keep that schooling to myself.
You certainly cant’t t make that sh*t up- Jimmy’s favorite saying.
I’m Teresa, not Terri- remember al that crazy mix up at the Enterprise- like who’s on first?
Yes! I thought of you when I typed it!
I can sympathize. I knew I was in for constantly spelling our last name when the minister — from Bill’s family’s church — asked how to spell it to fill out the marriage paperwork. Sigh. We’ve gotten all sorts of versions over the years.
Our DDIL’s mother was Donna, until she got a mailer from Victoria’s Secret addressed to Dhana — and she liked it, so legally changed her name to Dhana. Sigh.
So, going to become Van Ech?
Nope. I think I’ll be Dhana!