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Life can be weird.  Not like “Hey that guy has three eyes” kind of weird - just, you know, weird.  Put it this way:  For the past, oh, six months I've known that I'm going to be a father to another little bundle of joy.  Father as in Dad.  Like what my Dad is to me, except that it's going to be to me and not someone else now that is the Dad.
    It's a weird feeling.  Another little bag of blood and bones that has no personality, no visible social skills, that will become one of the most important things in my life.  If that's not weird I don't know what is.
    The first one is hard enough to keep in line.  He's turning into a little me.  It's funny and embarrassing all at the same time.  What the heck was I thinking?  Two will be easier?
    Of course now we have to try and come up with names.  This is really fun.  We used up the "A" list already.  So now we're resorting to the back up list.
    What's in a name?  Well, there are several schools of thought on this matter.  Some are the more traditional schools that only teach the three “Rs” of naming:

 1. Rearn your name. 
 2. be Rable to spell your name. 
 3. no cReative spelling.  Bob is spelled BOB not Bauhbe, Bawb, or Eggplant.

Jevster,
April 1999