My friends do it.
My neighbors do it.
Grandparents do it.
There’s a good chance your parents did it.
My mom still does it.
I do it. All the time.
And, apparently, pet owners do it, too.
There’s even a Facebook page about it.
Heck, I kind of suspect The Bard himself (father of three) might have done it, too…
“What’s in a name?
That which we call a rose
by any other name would smell as sweet…”
When I called my daughter, “Daisy!”
she looked like I was crazy;
in my multitasking fog
I’d summoned not her, but the dog.
I know moms who’ve done the same –-
called a kid by his pet’s name —
or, to make it even worser,
done exactly the vice-versa:
yelled for daughter or for son
when she meant the furry one.
Have I so much on my plate
that I can’t keep their names straight?
Still, the worst (or worser-ish)
would be mistaking kid for fish.
Especially, it must be said,
if – like ours – said fish were dead.
©2010 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz