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"Mornin,' boys! Hey, Doc, I'm curious," said our local art
teacher. "When I moved here, your wife introduced herself to me as
Mrs. Doc. You know, I never did get her first name."
"Well ..." Doc said, "that's the name she goes by. Ever since we
got married, she wants people to call her that."
We looked at each other. We'd never known her by any other name,
either.
"She has to have a first name, Doc," Janice said.
"I think everyone does. I think Elvis had a first name, too," Doc
said. "But my wife, well, she's kinda touchy about hers. But she
does have one, you know."
"What is it, Doc?" said Herb. "I never knew it, either."
"When Mrs. Doc was born," Doc said, "her folks stuck her with a
name that would drive most people to maim their parents. She messed
about with a bunch of nicknames when she finally got old enough to
be embarrassed, but they didn't take. Does she look like a Cookie to
you? Yeah. Me, either. So when we got married, she called herself
Mrs. Doc."
"Hermione?" asked Dud. Doc shook his head.
"Murgatroyd?" asked Herb. Nope.
[to top of second
column] |
"Phalarope?" asked Dud, again.
"Phalarope?" we said.
"It's a kind of bird," Dud said. Doc just shook his head.
"Look," said Doc, "it's just one of those old-fashioned names
that nobody would ever name a girl anymore, and she can't stand it.
If I told you what it was, this town would be without a doctor by
morning."
Dud scratched his chin. "Old-fashioned ... hmmm... Hey, I got it!
Pocahontas!"
Nope.
So then Janice said, "Well, Doc, I know there are moments ... you
know, personal moments, when there are just the two of you together,
and it's romantic, if you get my drift. What do you call her then?"
Doc smiled. "I call her 'Yes, Dear.'"
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
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www.pearsonranch.com.
Farm-direct, delicious California navel and Valencia oranges.
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