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Yesterday’s Fact or Fiction Here was all true! I have to respond to one comment:
You mentioned they asked what size waist you had, then later you said that the man's arm was bigger than your thigh.
Yes, I’ve looked back and it wasn’t written well.
He asked about my waist and told me the difference between my waist (22 inches) and his thigh (28 inches) and then he compared his bicep with my thigh.
Sorry, I should have gone back and edited the offending paragraph but I felt that would be cheating and I didn’t want to deliberately mislead you.
Dave was a good friend of my father's and I remember he was devastated when Dave died.
I have to admit that I really didn't dwell too much on the fact that he represented GB in the 1972 Olympics. I suppose I was used to my father's friends telling me tall-tales - but this one proved to be true!
Today’s story is to do with April 3rd specifically.
My daughter arrived on this day – she shares her birthday with 
I wasn’t able to move about much after the birth, but when I finally emerged, first, my mother and then my grandmother (father’s mother) approached me asking what we were naming the baby.
My mother wanted to know if I was going to be starting a new tradition. Because her grandmother’s maiden name was also Gent (no, Trev’s family and my family were not related – he’s checked that out), my mother wondered (wanted) if I would name the new baby girl Mary after her grandmother. I have to say that I was a little taken aback. Yes, I love tradition, especially family tradition, but to me, Mary was a little too old-fashioned for a brand-new baby. I said no, that we already had names for the baby.
My grandmother approached me in much the same way, albeit more demanding than requesting.
“Are you going to call the baby after my mother?” she asked.
If I had been taken aback at my mother’s request, I was flabbergasted at this one.
“No, I’m not,” I said to my grandmother.
Now, something I should tell you about that woman is that she was not used to being told ‘No’ on any matter, especially on a matter so personal to her. If she requested something, she was used to people saying ‘Yes, of course.’ When I said ‘No’, her face set in a scowl and she settled in for a battle of wills.
“I’d really like you to name the baby after my mother,” she said.
“No. I’m not doing that,” said I, standing my ground.
Her eyes narrowed in a hard stare and her mouth formed a tight line as she processed my refusal. I could hear her mind working to form another reason for me to change my mind. Her mother had died only a few years previously. She’d lived on the same street as my parents and I was a frequent visitor. She loved my horse (she loved betting on the ponies, truth be told) and I used to take my horse to see her on occasion. I used to use her back garden as a short-cut to and from school (if I was alone) and when I was younger, I would visit her every day. If only she had been christened with another name…
“We’ve decided to add Dionne’s middle name as her middle name, but that’s as far as we’re willing to take this.” I was trying hard not to be disrespectful, but it was getting more and more difficult.
“The baby was born on my mother’s birthday,” my grandmother said in her final argument – the summing-up of the whole case, as it were.
“She was born on Uncle David’s birthday too, but I’m not calling her David, either,” I said. “Grandma, I’m sorry, but I’m not calling my baby ‘Ethel’ for anyone. I’m just not doing that.”
If your name is Ethel and you like the name, then I’m sorry if I offended you. To me, a brand-new, pink and perfect baby didn’t suit the name Ethel and looking back, I think I made the right decision – even though I did incur the wrath of my harridan grandmother.
Danielle knows this story and I believe she is also pleased that I didn’t name her Ethel…
Happy Birthday Danielle!
Fact or Fiction?
Tell me in the comments.
