The Dirt Field

In the course of conversation today, I was reminded of the time in fifth grade when I decided I wanted a nickname. At the time, “Linny” seemed like a great choice. Determined to make the nickname stick, I insisted on writing my name as “Linny” on all of my school papers. Nothing happened for a while and I figured my teacher was accepting of my new name.

Not so. One day she called me up to her desk, pointed at an assignment where I’d written “Linny” in the header, and disdainfully asked, “What is that?” I tried to explain, at which point she told me my name was Lindsay and I should use that and that alone.

I’m not bitter or anything, though. Bitch.