Beanie has a suggestion for what we should name the baby: Peccatoribus.
Me: “Um. Isn’t that Latin for ‘sinners’?”
Bean: “Yup. But it’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
This reminds me of three-year-old Jane’s first choice for Rose’s name, some ten years ago:
“Bloomingdales Abednego Peterson.”
(We lived in New York City at the time, remember.)
We went with her second choice instead. You’re welcome, Rose.
Because It’s All About the Silhouette
The Five-Year-Old on Matters of Taste
I Have Told This Story Before