I mean really...Debbie? Come on...how many of us were there in one classroom? I counted 4 in my 4th grade through 8th grade classes. We all advanced together. I changed the spelling to Debi...wow, that helped. I thought I was the only one that wanted to change my name. Guess again.
Jack and I had just pulled into the garage today after school. I shut the car off and for some reason I didn't hop immediately out of the car. Good thing.
Jack: Sigh. (he unbuckled his seat belt, and crawled between the front seats and actually gave me a kiss.)
me: What's up Jack?
Jack: I hate my name. And...I hate the way I look.
me: Huh??? What do you mean?
Jack: My name is booooorrrrring and I want to look like Cameren. He has brown skin. Mine is all white.
me: (whoa) You have a very special name because it's the one that Mommy and Daddy picked out for you. Listen to this...Jack Lewis Prizefighter! Jack Lewis Private Investigator! Who's the guy working on this patient? Dr. Jack Lewis! See? It sounds very important.
Jack: (small smile) I guess, but I don't know. I wish it was something better like...Veronica.
me: (um...?) Okayyy? Who is Veronica (besides being my grandmother's name and my cousins)
Jack: It's Rodney's friend's name in "Robots".
me: Oh yeah. But it's a girls name you know.
Jack: Oh. Okay.
me: And why is your skin color not great? You have skin from me and Daddy.
Jack: Ewww. Because ... like just because your mom has white skin, doesn't mean you can't have brown skin. (He's referring to a friend of his with a white mom and black dad. His friend is a nice medium brown shade. Is this jealousy?)
me: Sorry, but you can't change your skin color. I hope you know how special your name is and how special you look to us.
me: Pinky swear.
Jack: Okay that's better. (He gets out of the car and we head into the house.)
Jack: So, now that we figured that out, do you want to help me practice karate?
me: Okay, sure!
Jack: Wait, have you ever taken karate before?
Jack: Great, then I have lots of moves to show you. Let's go practice our blocks.
me: Cool. (we head into the hallway and I assume what I think is an appropriate blocking "stance")
Jack: (sitting down) No Mom, I meant these blocks. (and no lie, he pulls out his wooden blocks and starts to build.)
me: Are you messing with me?
me: Wow, that's pretty good. I thought you meant karate blocks.
Jack: Yeah I know. Let's build a target. (he means a target to shoot at with his dart thingy, but I decide to mess with him)
me: Oh, we don't have enough blocks to build a Target (store), so...
Jack: NO, not A TARGET, a target. A little one.
me: Okay, where should we put the front door? (I start moving blocks into place)
Jack: NOOOOOO, it's a target to shoot at Mom!
me: We shouldn't shoot at Target, they'll call the cops.
Jack: Are you teasing me?
Jack: Well, stoppit.
Shut down again by the more mature person in the room.