We whittled the name list down to two options, and I suggested we use each to replace all references to Roo. A test drive, if you will. One day we use one name and then switch. We briefly considered four names as a compromise until we came to our senses. I confess I have a degree of competitive in this. She picked the middle name, and now I want the first name. Her choice has less allure only because it's her choice. Had I picked the same name, I'd employ the same sneaky methods to secure its victory as I am for the name I picked.
It feels weird to affix a proper name to the offspring, this golden child of evolution, when it's still a barely concealed hidden abstract. Yes, there's something moving around in there, but my associations of "baby" and her pouch passenger haven't reconciled yet. The manuals, decorations, accessories, and appointments aren't quite enough to convince me we'll have a baby living in our house. One that we planned for and instigated.
Moving Picture of the Day
Yes, I'm geeking out.