Yes. My name is m a r n a: Chris's Family Thanksgiving 2014

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Chris's Family Thanksgiving 2014

Nana feeding her grandson

Good ole dangerous game of "Spoons".

Only a few bloody scratches this time.

No broken tables or chairs!

Torture game. Who can outlast the other.

You have to hold on while being shocked.

First person to let go loses.

YUM time!

Torture game. Who can outlast the other.

You have to hold on while being shocked.

First person to let go loses.

Torture game. Who can outlast the other.

You have to hold on while being shocked.

First person to let go loses.

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Yes. My name is m a r n a. Not Myrna, Marta, Marva, Merna, Myra, Murna, and so on. (Although many call me Marnie and I like that one.) As an extremely shy child I hated my name. The first day of the school year was torture for me as most of the teachers could never pronounce my name. By high school, much to my secret delight, my classmates began correcting the teacher the first time it was flubbed up, often spelling it out during that first roll call. I think they had figured out I was too shy to do so. Overly attached to my mother I missed a lot of school until 9th grade, where I was scared of the Vice Principle and no longer complained of stomach aches. In the third grade my mother told me once the teacher asked if my middle name was "Stephanie". My mother said, "No". Seems I had started writing Stephanie on my schoolwork. My teacher continued to let me do so, which only last a few days. It's a miracle I have a master's degree after all my problems with school phobia. My mother is now in Heaven, no doubt, looking down on me in amazement. One of her biggest fears was I would not attend college. Here's to you momma. So sorry I grieved you so many mornings before school and so many afternoons with phone calls of "stomach aches". <><

(My words belong to me and may not be reproduced without my knowledge and consent.)