Choosing a name

No, not the baby's. I'm talking about my "grand" moniker. Well, let's look at some choices, shall we? I guess if I'm boring, I could be BlandMa. In trouble? BannedMa. At the beach? SandMa or TannedMa. No, none of those work. I think the word "ma" is the problem (yeah, like "banned" isn't?). "Ma" sounds old to me. Run-down. Sleeves rolled up, doing the washing by hand. Hold that thought.

"Grand" is fine, but "fabulous" is better. Alas, "FabMa" doesn't roll trippingly off the tongue. UberMa sounds too controlling. Most Excellent Ma sounds, well, not very Southern. OK, let's stick with "Grand" and hope I can live up to it.

Of course I could abandon "grand" and "ma" altogether. We already have a "Nana" and a "Gigi" in the family, so those are out. (First come, first served on grandparent names.) I'm not the Mimi-type. MeeMaw, Gommy, Nonni? Er, no. OK, back to "Grand."

Time for a confession. Kate and I decided my grandparent name when she was 9 or 10 and in her American Girls doll-phase. Kate's first American Girl doll was Samantha. We loved reading the books that told her turn-of-the-century story. It was in those stories that we found my grandmother name. Samantha was an orphan who lived with her grandmother . . . wait for it . . . Grandmary. Bingo! Perfect name. Of course, it really helps if your name is Mary, as mine is. Grandmary probably wouldn't work for, say, a Susan or a Tiffany.

So, forget the "ma" and "Mimi" and "Gummy." I'm going with Grandmary. Now, let's see how the grandbabies actually pronouce it! But, as the saying goes, I don't care what they call me, as long as they don't call me late for supper. But they'd better not forget to call at all.