Chapter 8: Names
One day, I decided that I was going to suck it up and ask.
"Dad, I have an important question to ask you."
"Morta, dear, you're only eight. There's no reason for you to know where babies come from."
"That's not what I was asking!"
"Oh, well okay then. Go ahead."
"Why did you name me Morta?"
"Oh, it could have been worse," Dad chuckled, not answering my question.
"What! How?"
"I could have named you Kid."
"You call that worse?"
"Well think about it; no matter how old you got, you'd always be a Kid."
"Sweet!" Cackling manically, I dashed off to tell Kid.
As I was running down the hall to find my brother, I realized Dad had never really answered my question.
"Dang it!"
