The (last) Name Game

When planning my wedding with The Agent, there was talk about whether or not I would change my last name. I was all for the name change. I am a traditionalist when it comes to marriage and family, it never occurred to me to do otherwise. It just made sense to me. I wanted to have the same last name as my husband and children. My maiden name is fairly common, there’s no guess work regarding the pronunciation, and I really dreamed of a name less… boring (don’t tell my dad I said this. Smith* is an awesome last name).

The Agent wanted to take my last name. He has a less common, harder to pronounce name, he always wanted a simpler last name, and since he has no contact with his father, there was nothing keeping him from changing his name. He dreamed of changing his name from Fitzgidoenblatz** to Conner***.

But here’s the thing about The Agent. I KNEW he wouldn’t change his name. Yeah, right. Like he would go to the social security office, to the dmv, to the bank. And even if he did change his name, would his friends and colleagues suddenly start calling him Agent Jones****? Not likely.

So we got married, and I changed my name. Bliss.

And then I got pregnant.

When we were thinking of names for Bug, we quickly realized that there is a shortage of names that sound good with the last name of Hoffenschwartz*****.

The Agent used this dilemma to harp on me every two seconds about my decision to change my name. “See? If you had let me change my name to Ford******, we would be able to find a name for the baby just fine. And your dad would have been happy, too”

Probably. But Bug Flappenpusch******* has a nice ring, also.

* Not my last name.
** Not my last name, either.
*** Still not my last name.
**** What do you think?
***** Are you getting the idea now?
****** You WISH this was my last name.
******* This actually is my last name. Not.