This is the photo that popped up when I Googled “call me Bob” |
Years ago when we were at a public pool or somewhere where everyone’s name is “Mom,” they had summer colds, and when they yelled for me, it sounded like “Bob” instead of “Mom.”
We all noticed that I turned around and responded a lot quicker than when they called me “Mom.” So they started using it even when they were not congested. Other people in public places, it turns out, think you’re saying Mom, or more likely, just don’t care what you’re yelling at all. But I could pick out that it was Bob instead of Mom and it always seemed to hasten the process of the mother and child reunion.
It stuck. Years later, long beyond the time that they would ever call out my name in public unless they needed me to pay a restaurant check, their name for me remains “Bob.”
This has the added bonus of injecting an appearance of diversity into their lives when bring their friends home to meet “Dad and Bob”–some are shocked it’s not a 2-dad family.