For reasons best known to himself, D.H has decided that he wants to come out of the closet and reveal his true identity, or at the very least get me to call him by his ‘proper name’.
Easier said than done; his mother, a complex lady, christened him ‘Richard Andrew’, immediately dropping the ‘Richard’ (don’t panic, she only dropped the name, not the baby, although had he of been dropped, it might answer a question or two), or, to put it another way, on carrying him ‘carefully’ over the church threshold, from that moment on, he was referred to as Andrew. Never Andy, Richard or Dick, I don’t need to go on do I, you get the gist – ‘Andrew.’
And that’s fine except every time he has to fill in any form of legal document, he has to remember that he’s Richard Andrew. Quite a surprise I can tell you when we were getting Married and the minister asked “Do you Annie, take Richard to be your wedded husband”, for a moment I thought that I might be marrying the wrong chap!
To me and the children he has always been ‘Our Andy’ and of course after all of these years together he’s inherited the odd pet name or two, none of which I’m at liberty to divulge. But if you’re really curious and can’t live without finding out, PM me and I’ll spill the beans.
When we moved to Tenerife, there was a lot of legal paperwork and contracts to sign, and I mean a lot! So naturally everyone here calls him Rrrrichard, (with a rolling R), and to be honest, it sounds so cute, I’ve started to call him Rrrrichard myself. Well, I have to call him that, because if we are in conversation with someone and they’re calling him Rrrrichard and I’m calling him Andy, you can imagine it would get a little complicated, plus trying to explain the “Richard-Andrew” thing in our pigeon Spanish would, to say the least, be mind-blowing. So the name, D.H has gone, along with Andy; and Richard it is, or as the Spanish say Rrrrichard!
See you soon Ax