25 February 2025

Amusing

Today was my weekly shift taking care of adoptable kitties. Usually at least one person stops by to see them, and asks how to adopt them, etc. And of course, because they are people, there's a wide variety of comments, questions, etc. And today, one of them amused me, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

A woman stopped by to see the cats. At the moment, there are three tuxedo kitties, not related to each other, all different ages. One is 4 months old, and as you can imagine, she is bouncing all over her cage, having hilarious times with her toys. Another is a boy, 7 months old, who loves playing with his wand toy. And the third one is a year old female, who is very cuddly and likes to be brushed.

A woman came to look at them, and she was in love with the kitten. She told me that her previous cat got hit by a car because she was outside, and I said if she adopted from our group, she would have to sign a contract to keep the cat inside. She pretty much ignored that and kept going. She took at brief look at the boy, and said she didn't want a male cat, she wanted the kitten. She didn't want the year old cat, because she is "too old, weird looking, and has an ugly name." (Her shelter name is Risa, and she has a spot on her nose where she lost a bit of fur due to a non-serious skin condition.)

Now, as far as looks go, the woman I am talking about was, shall we say, not a head turner. She was probably about 40 years old, with no teeth, dark raccoon eyeliner, and greasy hair. And I know that I shouldn't have, but I found her comments about Risa amusing given the source.

On my way home, I was thinking about it, and was reminded of other times I was amused by people and their names. These are all people my mother knew, and I am 99% certain they are dead now, but if they are relatives or friends of yours, I apologize if you are offended.

My mother had three friends that she would do things with on a pretty regular basis in the years before she died. They were lovely women, willing to take her with them places and deal with her wheelchair like it was no big deal. My mother *always* called them their names in this order: Faye, and Kay, and Dot Mellott (prounounced like "a lot"). I found this amusing, but The Tim was particularly taken with it - telling my mother she was the only person he ever knew whose friends were "an internal rhyme."  He even wrote a poem about them, and I can only remember the first part:

Faye, and Kay, and Dot Mellot went walking to the town. 

Said Faye and Kay to Dot Mellot, "why don't we sit down?"

I don't remember the rest, but it was quite epic, and my mother found it hilarious. I have no idea if she ever mentioned it to Faye, and Kay, and Dot Mellot ...

Then there was the time when I was shopping with my mother - I think I was about twelve years old - and she ran into an old friend of hers from high school named Minnie Mumley. Now, we had all heard of Minnie Mumley, and found her name to be a source of great amusement. Meeting her was disappointing, because she didn't look to me like her name sounded. BUT even more amusing to both myself and my mother is that she said she had changed her name (at this point my mother was in her early sixties, so I guess Minnie was too?). My mother assumed she meant her last name, and asked her what she had changed her last name to, and she replied, "Oh I'm keeping Mumley - I changed my first name to Lillian." And the rest of the afternoon, my mother kept saying, "Well I don't get it - Lillian Mumley doesn't sound much better than Minnie Mumley." And my sisters and I thought this was quite amusing, to say the least.

The last thing I thought of were two elderly women who were in our parish and they were the types that were involved in everything, as well as being really nosy (in my mother's terms they were "nebshits). There names were Cynthia and Anna Bell, and they were regularly referred to by most people as "The Ding Dong Sisters" - of course, not to their faces. Well, one Sunday the priest was reading announcements for the coming week, and said something like, "On Tuesday evening, we will host _____. If you are interested, please contact Cynthia or Anna Bell." To which a very childlike voice piped up, "Mommy! He's talking about the Ding Dong Sisters!" and no one in my family can tell you anything else that happened afterwards because we had to leave (yes, we were all sadly too amused to recover). My father had gone to an earlier Mass, so when we came home a bit early, he wanted to know why, and my mother told him, and he said,  "This is why you're all going to hell," which caused even greater laughter.

Anyway, I thought this might give you a chuckle. I love names, all kinds. I love knowing what people name their babies, I love it when you come across a name that is just PERFECT for a person, or when someone with an even more unusual name than yours comments on how "weird" your name is (this used to happen to me as a kid - there were no other Bridgets walking around then wherever I went to school).

(Then there is the co-worker I had once who had gone to elementary school with a boy named ... Sheldon Fartslinger. We agreed that we hoped he was a mulitmillionare by now, to make up for all the times he was beat up on the playground as a kid ... )

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