Tuesday, July 28, 2009


I am a firm believer in connections.
Just not to people I don't like.
Since I realized Punk was a girl, she has always been Punk to me.
Okay, she has also been Evil Little Miss Piss Pot, but that was an affection name born out of frustration and sleep deprivation.
My boys have always been Boo and Bug.
But Punk. Her nickname has a story I hope one day she will appreciate.
As the youngest out of a litter of children--last check, I think we were still counting my father's progeny. the man went forth and multiplied!--I was always his Pumpkin, later shortened to Punk.
It was my special name, and as he told me, "There was only one Punk."
it was a sign of affection, and at times, exasperation, when he said it. And I always knew it was solely for me. That none of the other kids was given that special of a name.
And, with Daddy's passage, I also knew I would never hear it said that way again.
So, when I was cursed, er, blessed, with my daughter, I knew in my heart she was Punk II.
And it's fitting since she is a mini me, complete with temper and looks and attitude.
I know Daddy would be proud.
And I know he'd approve.
And I know he'd be laughing his butt off when she blows and lets loose a banshee scream.
mostly because he survived it before, and I have to take Punk II home with me.

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