When my sister found out she was having a boy, she and her husband decided not to tell anyone in the family what name they had chosen. I had to agree with this course of action, because I know how … strongly opinionated … some of the grandparents can be about things like names and also everything else in the world.
But I didn’t feel right just calling him “the baby” or “your baby” or “the tiny human growing inside your body”, so I decided to call him BATMAN.
Amy pointed out to me that if they named him BATMAN, she and her husband would probably end up shot behind a theater. I was pleased that she knew the history of The Dark Knight, especially since they are decidedly not nerds like me (they’re sports nerds), but had to correct her. “That would happen to you if his name was Bruce,” I said. “BATMAN is pure awesome and that’s what I’ll call him for his whole life.”
By wonderful coincidence, one of her friends got my nephew his very first easy chair for his 1st birthday last week:
He’s probably watching the show with the creepy talking tractor who talks to farm animals, because that’s my nephew’s favourite show that isn’t creepy giant rats who sing and dance. Seriously, you guys, what the shit is going on with children’s programming? Are they trying to capture the Stoner/Burner/One-Year-Old market all at once or something?
No matter. He’ll be ready for Doctor Who and Star Trek and Firefly soon enough, hopefully before he outgrows his chair.