Finding a name for our daughter was fairly easy. CinC HOUSE and I both had a male name that we loved. When we found out she was going to be a girl, we feminized it, and everything was perfect. We threw in 2 middle names to honor people on each side of the family (we were convinced we would only have 1 child at the time), and Princess was ready to come into the world.
Our son was a slightly different story. We started throwing around ideas long before we new the gender. We quickly came to a choice on a name if we had another girl. That was easy. We weren’t able to come to a conclusion on a boy’s name though. We each had our favorite, and while we didn’t dislike the other person’s choice, we just liked ours better.
For the sake of this post, let’s say that I really liked Little Dude and my wife really liked Small Kid. I had absolutely no problems with Small Kid. It was a perfectly good name, but I was just in love with the name Little Dude (I can neither confirm nor deny that the real version of the name was inspired by my favorite beer). While CinC HOUSE thought Little Dude was a fine name, she thought Small Kid was awesome.
Then, came the fateful day of the ultrasound. We knew within the first 10 seconds that it was a boy (he was not shy). During the remaining 15 minutes of the appointment, I kept rolling the names through my head. I liked them both, but I was starting to see the appeal of Small Kid. It just felt like it would be a good fit. I decided that I would do what any good husband would and lose the argument. He would become Small Kid.
When we got in the car, I turned to my wife to give her the good news. As I was getting ready to open my mouth, she said, “You know what? I think that Little Dude just feels like the perfect name for him. Let’s go with your choice.” At that point, I did what any self-respecting man would do. I said, “I’m glad you came around. I think it’s the best fit too.”
I then spent the entire ride home not speaking and completely avoiding eye contact. I figured that if I could avoid notice, she would never be able to figure out that she was 1.5 seconds away from getting her choice.
It worked. We got home, and I managed to avoid detection until Little Dude was born and his birth certificate was official. Just to be safe, I didn’t tell CinC HOUSE this story until Little Dude’s 2nd birthday. You can probably figure out how that conversation went, but by that point, it was way too late to do anything about it.
There’s a very valuable lesson in this story for all of the husbands out there. Sometimes, the best thing that you can do is just keep your mouth shut!