Embrace grandparents’ pet names

Don't go crazy over what your mother-in-law wants to be called. Instead, embrace it and make it even better.

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Lifestyle

September 7, 2023 - 3:56 PM

Photo by Ekaterina Shakharova/UNSPLASH

Dear Carolyn: My in-laws have informed us of the monikers they would like our new daughter to use for them, and they are ridiculous. I can make peace with the one my father-in-law wants — a spin on “Papa” — but the one my mother-in-law wants is an actual proper name that bears no relation to her own name. Think: Her name is “Donna,” and she wants her grandchild, but only her grandchild, to call her “Gabrielle.” It’s bonkers.

I’m all for letting people be called what they want to be called, but … this is weird, right? Is it weird enough to say something over? And if so, what? Or do I just inwardly roll my eyes for the next decade? I cannot say this name with a straight face.

— Anonymous

Anonymous: I got to your question after I scrolled through about 15 others based on world events I can’t fix, so please know that has enormous bearing on the answer I’m about to give:

Embrace the bat [poop] awesomeness of this with all your might, and call them exactly what they want. Your daughter will then mangle it in her own way and make it even better. Don’t even think of ruining this gift with eye-rolls. Wrap it in a chartreuse feather boa and toast it with something pink and fizzy and served with a paper umbrella.

A reader’s thoughts:

• Yes, please embrace the bonkers. My mother is very much a “glamma not grandma” kind of lady and had some fancy name she wanted my niece to call her. 

Toddlers being toddlers, my niece mangled it, and anyway, now my mom is “Lump” to six kids. 

My mom has tried to change this for 16 years and with each new baby, and none of the grandkids will adjust. My niece even tells my mom that she can’t wait to get “Lump” tattooed on herself when she turns 18. 

My mom also hates tattoos and can’t seem to internalize that my niece is trolling her.

I admit, it’s pretty hilarious to see my 8-year-old run across a soccer field yelling “LUMP! LUMP!” when he sees my mom on the sidelines, groomed impeccably. (My mom won’t even wear jeans, let alone sweats.)

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