Naming Convention

She looked down at the newly-born child in her arms, and gently caressed its face. It was a he.

“I think we should name him after the year” she said, gazing into the large round and deep blue eyes that gazed back at her, slightly confused, but mostly content. She was confused and content, although the baby probably was as well.

He, the father, was exhausted – he’d never given birth before. He looked up. “You mean 2016? Can you have numbers in a name?”

“No, silly!” She said, but before she could continue he (the father) interjected, “Oh, you mean name him in the new year?”

“No – he can’t go all year without a name! I mean to name him after the year… across the year.” She realised she wasn’t making any sense.

He (the baby) started crying. She (the mother) gently cuddled and kissed the small bundle, who swiftly drifted off to sleep (the baby, not the mother). He (the father) was deep in thought.

“Like… a letter a day? He’d have a long name!”

“No, think of the months.” She’d given this some serious thought whilst in the throes of childbirth. His wrist was still red raw.

“August is a good name,” he said, pondering with pride. “I’m not too sure we could call him January though. Or April.”

“Think across the months. July, August, September, October, November.” She was willing him to suggest her name, but he was having none of it.

“August!” He shouted. “Very noble! Very… august!” He stood up and marched around the birthing room.

“Jason.” She whispered.

“Jason?” He stopped in his tracks.

“July… August… Sep…”

“The name across the year!” Finally he got it. “Jason!” He shouted, once again. “We could have August as his middle name!”

Screaming, the baby was awake once more.