Last night, I met a man named John who was with his son named Ian Douglas.
Not just Ian, but Ian Douglas. We laughed, but I know he was as freaked about it as I was. He told me his son's middle name came from his wife's deceased uncle. He spoke with a Scottish brogue, which made me fell a bit of a fraud. I don't really know why; I have every reason to name my kids as I please. Like I said, it was just wierd.
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