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Linden began to smile. “So he’s a grower, not a show-er.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “I think he is, yes.”
“Then he shall be coming home with me.”
“Does he get a name?”
He looked at the plant and nodded. “Sprout.”
I chuckled. “How did you go from Harold to Sprout?”
“Because... well, because that’s the names that come to me when I look at them.”
“Right. Okay then.”
“Are you judging my naming abilities, Mr Keats Perfect-Name McCulloch? Because believe me, when you grow up with the name of a retirement home, you fully appreciate the importance of a name.”
I snorted. “No judgement here at all. I happen to think the name Sprout is cute. And my middle name isn’t Perfect-Name. And you don’t have the name of a retirement home.”
“It’s either a retirement home, or an abandoned asylum for the insane that was shut down in the 1960s for shady practices. Those are the only two options a name like Linden Acres could ever procure, and I was going with the nicer option of a retirement home than the horror movie location haunted asylum.”
I laughed again. “Like the kind of movie where the teenagers dare each other to camp out overnight.”
“Exactly.”
“Then the retirement home is probably the nicer option, even though I don’t agree with those two options.”
“Could there possibly be a third? A toilet freshener, perhaps.”
I snorted. “No. I like your name.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Your pants should totally be on fire right now.” Then he side-eyed me. “You mentioned a middle name. What’s yours?”
“Joseph.”
“Keats Joseph McCulloch,” he said as if he was trying it on for size. “Perfect.”
“Joseph was my grandfather. What’s your middle name?”
He groaned. “I don’t like this game.”
I laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Francis,” he said flatly. “Linden Francis Acres.”
Oh.
“And I don’t even have the excuse that it was some great grandfather’s name. My parents just suck at naming things. My sister’s name is Odelia. And my mum has a cat called Ceefa.”
“Cee for cat?”
“Naturally. I guess I should be grateful my name isn’t Beebeefa. You know, bee for baby boy.”
“Small blessings, huh?”
