The first names I remember really liking - you know for my babydolls or imaginary playmates or maybe my persona in a game of pretend - were Mike, Lindsay, and Michelle. Something about those mid-alphabet consonants just did it for me. I think I liked Michelle because it sounded exotic to me; like the beach. You know: Mi-shell.
One of my earliest memories is being out in the garden with my mom while she weeded the flower bed outside our playroom. I remember trundling around the lawn pulling a red wagon after me. The wagon was heavy and bigger than me and hard to pull. It was filled with blocks - undoubtedly the sawed-off ends of two by fours from one of my dad's myriad projects.
Every so often I'd check in with my mom. Any worms she found during her gardening she put aside for me. Every time I made another round I put them in the wagon. But first I had a big decision to make: what to name the worms? Mike and Lindsay, obviously.
I probably had like 25 worms in there by the end. Once I took out all the wood blocks (which was probably a strenuous task for my little baby arms) and faced all those worms I had a dilemma - who was Mike and who was Lindsay? How do you tell boy worms apart from girl worms?
I don't know why none of those worms were named Michelle. Maybe they weren't exotic enough...
