Another Grand-brat, Names and Why My G-brats are Superior

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

With a fourth Grand-brat due any day now I am often asked if I want him to be named after me.  What a silly question.  Who would name a kid Faux Pa?

I wouldn’t mind if they named him after my Grandfather for whom I was named but Faux Pa is just out of the question.

I decided I wanted my Grand-brats to call me Faux Pa before I even had children. It just made sense.  A faux pas is a social blunder and faux means not real so it is perfect for me.  There was the small issue of having children of my own so I could have Grand-brats but every one of you who is a grandparent knows, even if you don’t admit it, that the only purpose in having children is so you can have grand-children.

Until I met my bride Management I had resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to have children.  Most of my peers, although according to the definition of peers I’ve never really had any, were working on their second marriages and had already had children when Management and I got married.

So, skipping the children since their only purpose is giving you a place to spend money and as carriers for Grand-brats, when the first G-brat was born I announced I was going to be called Faux Pa. I was told that was ridiculous. I was told that I couldn’t decide what they were going to call me and I was told that I would like whatever the first G-brat christened me.

I refused to accept that for several reasons.  Whatever the first brat chooses is what all subsequent brats use. That means all I had to do was teach the first one to do it my way and all future G-brats would follow suit. Picking a name is too important to let a two-year-old do it for you.  Almost all children start with an M sound which is probably why mothers want to be called mothers.

The child makes a mu mu noise and, voilà! he is saying mother and her heart melts. The second sound is usually a d sound which makes dad happy.  The third is what the Grandparents are called even if it is just a gas pain. That is why so many grandparents have names like Erk and Fiba.

So with a little care you can be called whatever you like by your G-brats even if you want to be called Zoraster, supreme ruler of the universe, or anything else.

Even as I type, Reckless, as his Grand-ma’am calls him, who is two, is playing in the floor, destroying the office and calling me Averett as everyone else who has come in has done.  As soon as they leave I am Faux Pa again.

According to my bride Management who is also Grand Ma’am to the G-brats all of them are already named after me.  She calls them Reckless, Fearless, Dauntless and Nameless.

Grand-Brats are special. Although, to be honest, if my Grand-brats were yours I would find them noisy, annoying and disruptive, however since they ARE mine they are superior in every way and are no problem at all.  This is why I don’t write about them more.  You are probably under the mistaken impression that YOURS are and we don’t want to get into a disagreement about it.

Yesterday as I was putting supper on the table, Dauntless (age 2) informed me he needed the Baby Sitter. Now I don’t think he has ever had a babysitter. I was confused. He was adamant that he wasn’t going to eat supper without the baby sitter.  He finally gave me a look like his Grand-Ma’am often gives me, went out to the sun porch and dragged in the highchair and patiently explained, “Baby sit high.”

You just can’t argue with that. Baby sitter it is.  This is what I mean about brats naming people and stuff.

Dauntless is also our first climber.  If you blink you will find him on the counters, dressers, cars and on the barn and house roofs. At least we think he is a climber. No one has ever seen him climb. He just suddenly appears where he isn’t supposed to be.

I think there is a good chance he transports but since yours doesn’t I don’t want to rub it in.

The current middle child (Reckless) has already announced his mother is going to have seven boys.  Now we middles have to stick together. The middle child is always different from the rest.  This one is a Chermon.  Sometimes he is a cherub and sometimes a demon.  He has dark curls that look like a halo or maybe a deranged suicide bomber, depending on his expression.

As far as I can see, five middles would be great but apparently Reckless and I are the only ones who think that is a good idea.