Something
I never talk about, but a slight annoyance I have to deal with every day: my
name. Okay, I know there are a lot more important issues to deal with, but
sometimes you got to vent about the insignificant matters in life like burnt
toast and bad hair days.
I
don’t hate my name…if it’s said right. That’s the problem: nine times out of
ten, I get called what someone thinks
is my name. Frances is the name on my birth certificate, which is fine. I can’t
blame my parents. My mom is a wonderful person who deserves to have her child
named after her. But I’ve always been called Francie. The nickname came from A Tree Goes in Brooklyn, a favorite
novel of theirs that year. If they read the Bible back then, I could be Sarah
or Rachel, nice easy names.
Unless
I spell it out and even if I do, people say Francine. Do they think I forgot to
write or pronounce the n? It’s not there. So I’m called Franny or Francine more
often than not. I don’t even bother correcting their mistake. So I started
spelling my name with a y, hoping it conjures up the rhyming name Nancy. No one
would ever say Nancine. I hope. Hmmm…I guess I’m complaining about the letter
N. Am I acting like the Grouch on Sesame Street?
When
it came to naming our own kids, we were careful to pick Bible names that
wouldn’t give them name problems in the future. Even still, our daughter, Jordan,
complains that having the initials J. J. gets her called J.J. the jet plane.
And Aaron used to have trouble with r’s and called himself Aawin. I understand
their anguish.
Are
there any other Francies out there with the same problem? Or does anyone else
have a “name problem?” Please share. I will sympathize with you.
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