Our new niece’s name is Phoebe Sofia.
I am sure I will be fine with this. As Shakespeare says,
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.”
At this juncture, I suppose I should speak about my brother Marc, and how he was going to be a Noah all the way up until the moment of his birth, at which point my parents looked at each other and said, “He’s not a Noah” and named him Marc.(with a C, not a K)
And I’m sure he’s relatively happy that he’s not a Noah (with apologies to Noah’s everywhere!)
This is still a story in my family, and perhaps the Otter story will become a new story, a different story.