A is for Awesome

I have three kids, in case you can’t keep up with the menagerie that is the Beauty Girls household.  Each of the girls has had a nickname – something that we’ve called them, grandparents have called them, or they have called themselves.  It’s the names they’ve referred to themselves as that have always been the most unique.

Brighid for a while in kindergarten decided Brighid wasn’t a great name.  Among the list of thousands of available names, she chose Pansy.  As in the flower. As in she didn’t know then it was the name of a flower, but we called her Pansy for days on end. Until Brighid was in vogue again. Then all was right with the world.

Eilis answered only to Super Duper.  As you do, when you’re three.  You could call “Eilis” all day long, until you were that proverbial shade of blue in the face, and she wouldn’t answer you.  Until you called her Super Duper.  She still is, by the way, Super Duper, however, she seems perfectly content to answer to Eilis.

Then there is Awesome.  I mean Granuaile.  Who is Awesome. Don’t mess with this kid – Awesome ain’t got time for your nonsense.  T-shirts with arrows that point up and say, “I’m with Awesome” crowd her closet – along with sweat pants, sweat jackets, and other t-shirts that refer to her by her chosen name.  Awesome.

You have no idea how hard I pray she will always believe that she is.  Awesome.