Names

Okay … you all know that Ophelia is my teeeeeeenaged daughter; Cordelia is her best friend.
My son, poor lad, has been going through entries here as N. Well, thanks to Gemma (the diarist, not the cat, although I promise I do know that the cat would have provided just as good a choice had she been asked, wow I am getting so parenthetical of late), he now has a full first name for purposes of mentioning him in this place. And it is:
… drumroll please …
Nigel!
I think that people who know the lad of whom I write, the apple of my eye, my angel of the messy room and quick wit and great charm, the 12-year-old male who asks how we know for certain that he is not an older lesbian, will enjoy seeing this name for him. I know I shall enjoy using it to represent this human bean as I write about this.
That’s it for now. I can only come up with one name at a time; too much nomenclature gives me a headache; and, after all, a pilgrim on a journey meets all sorts of people on the way.