Kinda poetic, rhyming title.
Last time, we stumbled on something really fun with Chewbacca, ne chewbecca. My Dad would have long, psychic conversations with that fetus that is now Sara. He would claim to know her every desire. It often involved shortening Mom’s visits to Seattle or instructions for Wayne and I to photograph more, oddly enough.
Some now there’s another heartbeat in my womb. I’ve been calling it ‘Hopeful’ Wooten. I’ve had fears about infertility (so it took us 1 month longer than expected) or of miscarriage. I’ve also been excited about this new gift God has given us.
Dad is unhappy with the moniker ‘Hopeful’ and has lobbied for a change (this is why I save the real name for the birth; naming is not a democratic process). So here’s the final iteration (approved by Dad): Whirly Gig Wooten. Whirly Gig is a kids festival in Seattle. Gig can transform in to GI Joe for a boy or Gigi for a girl.
Whirly is easy. Whirly Wooten. My little grain of rice. Grow well and quickly, little one.
I wonder what you’re murmuring to Dad tonight.