Our little terrorizer

We are still at a standstill in our baby naming process. I probably think about names during 60 percent of my waking hours, picking one of our three top names at a time and imagining what it would be like to call him to soccer practice or having internal conversations with him when I’m scared to death driving on icy roads. I think about nicknames, potential for teasing by future mean kids, and how the name would flow. I especially overanalyze this last one. For instance, I decided that whichever name we choose can’t end in an “r,” because then the first and last names would run together. Like if we named him “Arthur,” his name would sound like “Arthurizer.”

And then I came to a glorious realization; if we name our son “Terror,” he will be known as “Terrorizer.” And now we get to the part of this post about why my mama is awesome. I told her about our new favorite name and we had a good laugh about it and then a couple weeks later, we got a package in the mail with a stocking for our new baby, Terror.

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P.S. We’re thinking “Moisture” for a younger sister someday.


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