It's true, and in writing on the internet for all to see, that I think my husband is a dork. But I wouldn't have married the guy if I wasn't also a dork or found it appealing in some way. I love my dork.
So I thought I'd take a second to let you in on a recent funny conversation we had about Elliot's name and my obsessive compulsion to worry about whether or not he'll be mocked in school because his parents gave him a dorky name.
A: Aren't you worried about his name? Elliot is a dorky name. Our kid is going to be a dork. That doesn't bother you? No cool kid in my school was named Elliot.
F: My name is Fred. (Staring in a sort of disbelief)
We both had a good laugh. As to whether or not we're laughing because it's true or just the fact that I'm a bit slow in realizing my own husband sort of has a dorky name, I'll let you decide.
Fred told that story at work today and I think his co-workers made it even funnier by saying I should have made the final comment:
A: I rest my case.
To all you Union Bank employees I say "SERIOUSLY."