By REBECCA SPARROW
A photo of cutlery has caused me angst.
And not just any cutlery. Zoe Foster’s wedding cutlery.
When I heard that the tremendous Zoe Foster (I don’t use the word tremendous often but really is there any other word to describe Zoe?) had scooted off and married that charming rogue Hamish Blake – I did a big WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP and then I did what millions of other people did. I broke my ‘never buy a magazine’ rule and rushed off to buy the weekly mag that had their wedding pics.
The venue! The guests! The dress! The food! The happy couple looking deliriously happy! And then that goddamn cutlery shot.
The photo that set me into a spin.
Pourquoi? (Little bit of French there to impress you …).
Because that crafty minx Zoe Foster had had her wedding cutlery engraved with Mr and Mrs Blake.
And I swooned. And then I felt a little pang of regret.
Because somedays I really, really regret not changing my name to my husband’s. Patricarchal bullshit aside, the fact is that now that I have kids I sort of wish we all had the same name.
So that when I get our totally naff personalised family calendar made every year, I could genuinely call it ‘The Robinson Family Calendar”.
So that when I go to help at Ava’s kindy, the teachers wouldn’t have that momentary look of confusion. Do the kids (who are instructed to call adults by their surname) call me Ms Sparrow? Or Mrs Robinson?
So that when Ava – on a whim – decides to clock her baby brother on the head using, I don’t know, say a Peter Fitzsimons novel I can say, “In the Robinson family, we don’t assault family members with novels over 100 pages … )”
Top Comments
The problem with all the hyphens is what happens down the track….. when your son, say, Jack Smith-White marries a nice girl called Emma Black-Jones? Do they have a mob of kids with the surname Smith-White- Black-Jones?
Seems like hyphenating, when your kids get the double barrelled name, only postpones the decision about whose name gets lost.
I can't help thinking it would be nice if it was 50/50….that as many men changed their names on marrying as women. Much as it seems a small thing it is symbolic…. like so many things between the sexes, of something much deeper.
The idea of changing my name never really entered my mind. If my husband and I have children, I am happy for them to take his name and for me to keep mine, and not feel any lesser for it. I accept that I will just have to live with confusing any teachers - although surely it's more than commonplace for families to take different forms and names without anyone batting an eyelid?
My brother's wife is one of two sisters and has an unusual last name which would have otherwise ended - but she has kept her name (and he his) and passed on her name onto their children. There was no angst or regret, just a decision that made together as a couple and a family. And I think that's lovely.