"The Personal is Political" African diaspora political commentary, life-love-and music.
Sunday, 20 May 2012
Say my name...
My body clock is ticking. I keep it quiet with Irish cream!! Lol, seriously... I mean... what's that all about. I’ve had three already... all be it a long time ago... but still... I can barely look at a child without feeling overcome... with something. So... I stay away. I especially stay away from pregnant women, as it’s a little known fact that if a womans bum accidently touches the bum of a pregnant woman... if she’s not already... she sure will be pregnant in the blink of an eye. Don’t believe me??..
I do believe that children are best had when you’re young, despite the drawbacks that can occur.
It’s often said that children don’t ask to be born, yet... there’s a school of thought that believes that children actually 'do' ask to be born... not only that , but they.. select their parents. Don’t believe that either??...
I thought about the names that parents give their children and how it can reflect so much. You hear names such as Angel, Joy, Jacob, Moses, King... highly emotive and filled with aspiration. There are some parents that 'thoughtfully' choose names they consider to be middle class avoiding names such as Trevor...or Delroy... opting instead for the more sedate, Zac, or Josh ( both of which I quite like)
Then there are sons who are named after their father... a sign that the woman was either very loved up at the time... or the man was very rich... yeah... deny that one.. ‘Senior!!’lol
Still... regardless of your name, people from the Caribbean... especially those who still live in the Caribbean, prefer not to call you by whatever is on your birth certificate. No... They prefer to call you by your most distinguishing feature... such as....’Broad Nose Nigel’...’ Long foot Larry’... Big Bottom Brenda... ‘Ben’ Foot Bobby( usually a bow legged man.. not seen that in a while) ... how about Long Mouth Murva... ‘Bad Teet’ Tony’... ‘Broke Pocket Peter’... well ....you get my drift..
My dad was known as ‘toothpick’, I wondered why the man at the door asked for one... did he have something in his teeth?...
I’ve been referred to by a few names in my time... legs... slim or slim ting... marga gyal... and feisty gyal ( usually after a spurned advance.. go figure
Yes... names... a disgusting habit, stop it immediately lol.
Night x
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so true with the names. I named my first son Che, guess whose autobiography I was reading? and the boy's just as rascally as the man was described, wanna kill him half the time.
ReplyDeletehaha! wha gwan slim gyal? growing up we did think slim girls were very feisty, a nightmare to chat up, always trying to catch you out! but that's just perception init
rah! pregnant just like that? hmm, but them old wives tend know these things
Errr... yes it's just perception *wink* lol..
ReplyDeleteI nearly called my second son Terra.. my mum asked me if I was crazxy .. Terror? as in Terrible??..
Maybe..it was the effects of the gas and air, but in truth names do tend to come to us, to fit the child like a glove.
Those old wives know a heck of a lot.. it happened to me... back in the day.
Tell you another one. If you have young children and one looks between thier legs and out at you. It's said they're calling thier siblings lol... honest!!!