It's A Start

I might just be able to calm down a little. The Hubster has agreed to a "thinking about it" list of names:

Drake
Ivan
Asher
Jett
Pierce
Vaughn
Zane
Dawson
Dane
Beck

Which, naturally, could be altered at any moment. I'm dancing in circles and tossing rose petals at the thought that he is even thinking about thinking of names that we have discussed (did ya follow that one because I almost lost myself).

I'm sure this weekend we'll get an earful of ideas whether they are welcomed or not. Saturday one of my very close friends is getting married. Mira is the flower girl and I will be a very large brown cow in the pink ribbon bridesmaid. After teetering on heels for an hour I can't imagine I'll be standing much at the reception. Instead I'll be resigning myself to long conversations with older ladies of opinion. You know the ones I mean. They reek of Eau De BenGay, often sport bluish hair, pull hard candies and/or tissues from their ample bosoms and think that Harold sounds like a distinguished doctor's name. Yes those ones... God help me. Then again, the mere mention of my name list may send them into a swooning case of the vapors, leaving me plenty of time to conceal myself under the bridal party table.