Don’t worry, I’m not about to sensationally reveal that one of my boys is shaping up to be a mass murderer. This is only the third post, I don’t think we’re in that zone yet (I was always a fourth date kinda gal anyway).

This is way worse, this is about names.

Like any parents, we read the baby name books cover to cover and worried if the chosen names could possibly combine into embarrassing acronyms.

B.E – BIG EARS? BELL-END? BAstard…err?

So I like to think that the names we eventually chose were good names, names that will see them through childhood and into the boardroom/theatre/medical ward/courts, I’m not fussy.

It’s a little disappointing therefore to discover that one of our children seems to be changing his name. It’s not his choice (in fact he’s really against it) but he can’t fight it, it’s happening anyway.

It started innocently enough, the children were in the garden playing ‘Where’s Kevin?’, I don’t know what this game is, it seems to have emerged from nowhere and consists of running around mindlessly screeching ‘Where’s Kevin?’ at No.4 before falling about in fits of laughter and starting again. Childhood, the best years of your fucking life.

Now No 4. is an obliging chap and he tried to find Kevin but since he doesn’t exist, it was a bit of a fool’s errand. So, he isolates the next smallest and therefore slowest one and falls on No 3. shouting, “Kevin!”.

David Attenborough is welcome in our garden any day to witness survival of the fittest in it’s most primitive form.

This is a window into a growing worry for me, No. 4 thinks that if there’s a pecking order, No.3 comes somewhere below the cat. He’s not an omega and that means he needs to take his true place by force.  In an entirely intentional campaign of terror, my two year old is employing psychological tactics that would would make ISIS sit up and take note. He is refusing to call No. 3 by his given name.

It was funny at first:

Me: Say goodnight No 4.

No. 4: Night No.1 [kiss], night No.2 [kiss], night…[steely glare]

Then he upped the stakes, calling No. 3 Blondie on occasion. Not consistently, he throws it in at the end as a little surprise kick in the teeth.

No. 4: Go out in the garden…Blondie? <endearing head-tilt to obfuscate the barb>

Kevin was a God Damned gift to No. 4. It was like giving a child a knife and telling them to run with it. It was the ultimate tool in his plans for take-over.

Now every time No.3 opens a door for him “Ankoo Kevin”, steals his toy “KEVIN!!” or even breathes, “Kevin” <pats Kevin’s head menacingly>

And here’s the crux of it, we’ve all started calling him Kevin. We’ve got so familiar with the name when urging him “Don’t say Kevin, say No.3” that it’s entered our familial vocabulary.

Now when No. 3 falls over and starts crying, we rush over with No. 4 looking concerned (he can afford to now, he knows he’s winning) and we’ll say “Oh, no. Look, Kevin’s fallen over…are you going to love him better?”.

Why couldn’t they have played a more aspirational game like “Where’s Charles”? Although maybe I should just be grateful it wasn’t “Where’s Dick?”.

30 COMMENTS

  1. This is hilarious. But you’re right, it could have been worse. It definitely could have been Dick. But I mean really, they’re kids. It could have been Butt. Or Fart. And you definitely don’t want your kids changing each other’s names to that.

    • Yes, it really is survival of the fittest…I think it’s me that’s going to lose (empty nest syndrome developing approx 16 years early)

  2. Haha! Kids are such an experience, aren’t they! I love how, as parents, we think we know what we’re doing…and then the kids come along and throw it all out of whack! Hang in there mama. Being the Kevin in my family growing up, it all turns out pretty good. As to #4…

    • Hi Becki/Kevin, that’s such a relief to hear! I thought I was going to be such a different parent from the one I’ve turned into. I think that’s down to the children showing up and not following the neat lines I’d prepared but I wouldn’t have it any other way 🙂

  3. Love this, sounds like my place. My son calls my daughter “sissy.” Do you think we can get him to call her by her real name, no! He is convinced that her name is sissy!

  4. LOL ~ having three kids it is amazing what their imaginations come up with. I know my neighbors can hear ALL our conversations or, better yet, when they are talking or singing in the bathroom….. I wouldn’t have it any other way and I know you wouldn’t either 🙂 Cheers to parenthood!

  5. Reading this makes me realize I didn’t make a mistake when I decided to get three pups instead of having children. lol It’s definitely not for everyone (like me) because I have no idea how I would have handled these types of situations. At least you can put dogs in their kennel when they misbehave or get on your nerves – ha!

    • Ooh a kennel…I’m joking (a bit). I don’t know though, lots of people that have children and dogs tell me that the dogs are more work!

  6. This is such a funny post! All of our names in our family start with the letter R and so we have a running joke with numbered names as well.

  7. Funny story! My doctor told me not to name my son what I planned on naming him, because it would give him the initials BS, and people would make fun of him. I did it anyway, no one has ever made the connection any how lol.

  8. I’m pretty sure I was like that to my older brother. I called him names all the time, never really saying his real name.
    It is a pecking order to them.
    Be glad it wasn’t ‘Dick’ or something else. 😛

  9. This is great 🙂 It’s not only what kids could make out of the name in your own language but also what the name or an abbreviation could mean in a different language. So much to think of before coming up with an original name haha

  10. This is too funny. Oh the woes and joys of childhood. I have always had names picked out for my kids before I even got pregnant with my first. They all well 3 out of 4 (if get lucky with 2 boys and 2 girls) will be named after Greek Gods and 1 girl after an irish warrior princess. I like different lol

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