Pay Back

Some of you may remember that Zoë is not actually my real name. I decided my given name just didn't fit me, so I tried on a few options and after some months of what my surrounding authorities and guardians must have feared was a blossoming personality disorder, I landed on Zoë and have remained so ever since. "When did you change your name?" people always ask. "Third grade," I reply, and then they choke on what they're eating a tiny bit, or make that kind of laugh that sounds like they're gulping at the same time. 

From that point on for a few years, I went through a frustrating phase where I was always fighting the system and reminding my parents, "NO! It's ZOË!" I just couldn't understand what was so difficult about it. But eventually, in sixth grade, three years later, the name took, and even distant relatives got the hang of it with only occasional slip ups. "FINALLY!" I thought to myself. 

Well . . . pay back is coming my way. I worried and stressed and agonized over my baby's name choice because of all I'd gone through around my own name. I figured, "No matter how well I choose her name, she's going to want to change it, she'll be my daughter after all!"And I figured, when that day came, I'd smile, nod, and chuckle to myself knowingly, quickly going with the flow and using her name of choice. That day has come sooner than I'd expected. My dear sweet little Sofia Arabella has decided that she is now, "Mario." Yes, that is Mario, as in Nintendo's Mario and Luigi. 

And now, all I hear, a hundred times a day is, "NO! It's Mario!" Because as much as I am smiling and nodding and chuckling to myself, I just can't get with the program and remember to use her name of choice. Let's hope that within three years, she's grown out of it.