A Mountain of Information

Poppy’s birthday today and the family gathered at our place to sing at him and cut cake.

While we were each chewing down on a slice of chocolate the topic of conversation somehow hit upon the mystery of what is Uncle Jason’s middle name.

“Leslie,” he informed us.

“Nice,” I lied.

Uncle Jason went on to explain. “I was named after my-”

“Auntie?” suggested Poppy.

“Uncle,” corrected Uncle Jason.

“Belinda was named after a beauty queen,” said Nanny. “Tracey after a cyclone.”

“You got those mixed up then,” I said, and Belinda gave me a funny look. I gave my last statement a quick once over and realized my error. “I mean you’re more cyclonic, not less beautiful.” Save!

“I was named after someone in the Bible,” said Nanny. “Don’t know who.”

“Um…” said Uncle Jason. “Would it be Carmel?”

Nanny looked sheepish. “Oh, yeah,” she said. I Googled it. Carmel wasn’t a who, it was a big, old mountain. I might need to mention this to her next time she pops over.

But as usual, Tracey got the last word. “Or maybe you were named after what one of the wise men rode in on.”

That’s my girl. I love this family.


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