Our new family pet had arrived. It needed a name and I had several amazing ideas, but it would be up to my artist wife to make the final decision.
After all, I had brought it home for the family but had gifted it to her specifically.
“What are you going to call it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but it has to be something appropriate.”
“How about Michelangelo?” I asked.
Her response was an immediate eye roll. One of my daily allotment.
“No Ninja Turtle names,” she said, cutting me off before I could make my plea that the name was actually inspired by the 16th century artist who I named to my All-Star Team last year.
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For the next 30 minutes, we went back and forth. Moreso, heavily “forth” from my side than back from hers. I’m certain it was excruciating for her while being simultaneously entertaining for me, especially after I weaponized our kids. Always a good thing to do as a parent, right?
Turning to our 11-year-old son and 8-year-old daughter who had been watching this banter play out with interest, I asked, “Don’t you think Mary Puppins would be an awesome name?”
They did, until they saw the look on mom’s face. Then, they didn’t. Weapon disarmed.
In the meantime, it just sat there, waiting patiently for us to finish our epic (to me) back-and-forth naming banter.
It’s the most obedient pet I have ever had the privilege of owning, except for that time it kept going in circles under my wife’s blue easy chair in the corner of our living room.
It’s the most obedient pet I have ever had the privilege of owning, except for that time it kept going in circles under my wife’s blue easy chair in the corner of our living room.
Regardless, like any good pet, it always made up for the dumb things it did.
I mean, those sparkling blue eyes on top are captivating. They light up the room when the house is dark and after a really long walk they also change to red and begin to twinkle. Plus, within days of coming home, it learned its way around our house and never left a mess behind.
All four of us fell in love quickly. Pets tend to do that to their owners, I suppose.
Mostly, I loved it because it didn’t jump on the furniture. My wife, who is allergic to animal dander, loved it because there was no hair to worry about. As for our kids, well, they loved our new family pet because it eliminated one of their household chores.
In the end, my artist wife named it Jarvis; an ode to the Iron Man automated household butler.
