You can file this one under: Things that make me go 'Hmmmm'

This morning, as I sat rocking my precious baby boy in his room (per our usual pre-nap ritual,) the scene was typical for any other morning around this time: Gav & I snuggled together in the glider in the corner, shades drawn, the only sounds the soft hum of his humidifier, and his sleepy little yawns. This is usually the only quiet, intimate time that we get, just the two of us each day, and I feel confident that I spend it well:  examining his tiny fingers with mine, stroking his silky blond hair, caressing his soft, pudgy cheeks, and pleasantly enjoying this bond of mother and son as he drifts off into dreamland on my chest.  The only thing that differentiated today from any other was that it took him a bit longer than usual to fall asleep, since his nose was still all stuffy from last week's sickness,  and therefore getting comfy proved a bit more difficult.

That said, I spent some of this extra time quietly staring around his room, just looking at everything around us; his adorable froggy-inspired crib, his closet chock-full-o-clothes, the humidifier vapor rising into the air, the letters on his wall, the-



Wait a minute.

Let's go back to that "letters on his wall" part.

My eyes traveled back to the strategically placed letters hanging above his changing table:

They'd been hanging there since well before his birth, but today, something jumped out at me.  Maybe it's the fact that I'm a writer and am always looking at and analyzing letters and words more so than the average Joe. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation. Maybe it's the tail end of this virus that has all but knocked me out cold-- But for some reason, a strange thing hit me today as I stared long and hard at my son's name on the wall....

If you rearrange the letters in just the right way, my strong, masculine son's name

g    a    v    i    n   

has the ability to become...



v    a    g    i    n .




Now I don't even know if this word exists, but it seems like the perfect candidate for the Frenchman's (or, Borat's) version of "vagina," especially if you put the stress on the "i" (like "vah-JEEN")

How did I not ever realize that my little boy's name is an anagram for female genitalia?!  Whoops. Sorry about that, little Gav.... let's just hope that:

1. your Momma is the only one crazy enough to have noticed this,
2. you never, ever have a "find anagrams of your first name!" assignment in elementary school, and
3. in High School, your lacrosse buddies don't make this realization. Ever.