Purdy

When I think of the little travelers as a group, there are possibly two things I love the most. The chats we have in the car and the enjoyment I get out of being able to observe them in their daily lives. Whether it’s playing sport, taking part in a birthday party or just messing about with their friends. There’s something incredibly beautiful about simple childish fun, watching the four of them dig a hole in the sand and seriously discuss the possibility of making their way to other side of the world, or seeing my two little girls, nose to nose, eyes as wide as saucers, deep in conversation about the flavour of the birthday cake.
I miss being a child. I miss cartwheels on the lawn and handstands up against the wall (so does G) – I’m joking! Seriously though, I miss how slowly time moved and how much fun a game of chasey in the school yard could be. Today I was reminded of that when I met a fabulous woman called “Purdy”. As she was introduced this morning I immediately said “Oh Purdy, I LOVED Purdy!” I was thinking about Joanna Lumley playing the role in the Avengers. She was so cool. In my games of make believe in Grade Four I was always Purdy, I karate kicked and shot down anyone that got in my way. The more sophisticated of us at the table (not me) were thinking of Purdita a character from Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale. My new breakfast companion said that she was very pleased when Purdy from the Avengers came along as her name suddenly became a little cooler. I was suffering from name envy.
Sometimes names just don’t translate though. 
A little later in the day I was getting the girls hair cut. I struck up a conversation with an American woman who had a very thick southern accent. She was really good fun. I love women from the South. I talk too much and tend to over share and it was for this reason I imagine that I felt the need to tell her that I’d had breakfast with someone called Purdy. And then I wistfully said “I used to be Purdy – back in the old days, in the school yard, I was Purdy”.
“Why darlin – you’re still pretty!” she said.
For a brief moment in time we stood staring at each other, crickets hummed, I blinked, she blinked and then I clicked and realized what she’d thought I’d said and nearly wet my pants in hysterical laughter. It wasn’t just the Purdy/pretty thing. I had a little flashback.
I was thinking of Liam.
My Aussie girlfriend in Houston took her new son Liam on a journey that involved heading into the deep South in the US, they stopped at a cafe/restaurant for a break. A very nice woman enquired as to what Liam’s name was. When my girlfriend told her the woman looked perplexed.
“Liam?”
“Yes, that’s right – Liam”
This went on a few times until the woman finally said
“You mean like an arm and a leg limb?.”
Said with an accent from the south Liam/Limb. Same.
Said with an accent from Ireland.
A whole different story.
Has anyone got your name wrong lately?

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