What’s in a name Part Deux

1.The cat lady came to visit, so I wore my fluffiest, most caring and respectable jumper.
We got approved, but we had to jump through loops first.
I knew I had her when I said that I’d rather give my child away than my cat. I do think she understood it was a joke. I don’t have a child.
J surpassed me in the nodding, agreeing and smiling stakes, though; but then he usually does. It’s a gift he has:‘You know how when you want to get cash out of a machine, you need to press the right buttons? well I kind of see it a little bit like that with some people. It’s not really lying, because I’m genuinely quite nice underneath’, he said after she left.

2. Later on we made a tentative list of possible names for our future feline; so J stood by our bookshelves and called out: Seamus, Francis, Flan –I’m not calling my cat after a type of dessert - Plato – Plato? No way, that’s so pretentious, I exclaim. Oh yeah, how is that less pretentious than Francis? And you said yes to Francis. No, Plato is more pretentious.
Later still we are browsing the list of Nobel Prize winners, because this is where socially ambitious parents get names from if they want to give their offspring a head start. Victor, Ernest, Edouard, Hakan. J rather likes Hakan….up a fur ball, he chuckles.

I’m afraid he’s not taking this matter very seriously.

Oh, and, that's me.