Almost two decades ago, on a Sunday afternoon, as my husband and I were quite busy shoveling popcorn into our respective faces, watching a movie marketed almost entirely to children, we knew precisely two things: (1) Parenting was not for us; and (2) Our first child would be named Oscar Farias.
How did we know this? Well, my husband’s last name is Farias; so, when we were reading the movie’s credits—merely a feeble excuse to finish the last vestiges of our popcorn–the name Oscar Farias understandably caught our attention and then promptly and more than a little unwittingly took up residence in our souls. We thought Oscar was a great name—one everyone has heard of but seldom actually hear. And it sounded quite right with Farias—maybe not mellifluous, but surely good.
My husband turned to my buttery face and asked between his own mouthfuls of popcorn, “If we ever…
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