I took my dad to see the Narnia movie tonight. He made a point of telling a few of the people we spoke to that he had read the books to me almost 30 years ago. (‘Tis true, and I can never hear the word “Cornelius” without hearing how my dad pronounced it way back when.) Meanwhile, I noticed that I have become more “alert” to the presence of children at these movies since my wife became pregnant. I laughed when a man won one of the prizes before the movie, and another man yelled out, “Give it to a kid! … Give it to my kid!” I could kind of see myself saying that. After the screening, my dad and I discussed my wife’s recent ultrasound and the possibility that one or more of the traditional Chattaway names — names that were used by his parents, uncles and aunts — might be passed on to my kids. It’s not that I ever really intended to follow such a pattern; it just seems like things might go that way. So, all in all, it was a very multi-generational evening. I can’t wait to take my own children to the movies. But I think I can wait until they are old enough to take me. And when they do, I wonder what names they’ll be considering for my grandchildren.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In