Kind of Like a Motorcycle

The story behind my daughter's name is not one I would call "special." It's actually kind of amusing now that I think about it. But something about that memory has forever stayed with me, enough for me to name my daughter after that child.

I had just graduated from high school and I was working at an after-school program for the summer. I was in charge of a 2nd or 3rd grade class - my memory fails me on which one it actually was anymore. My shift started around 11 am and I served them lunch. The ones who didn't finish their work from the morning would finish it after lunch and I would help them complete their assignments if they had questions. Then I stayed with the class all afternoon as they rotated their play areas. I'd leave work around 5 or 6 pm. 

One day at work, one of the girls came up to me and asked me a question. I answered it, and she responded, "I get you, I get you" in this squeaky little girl voice. I loved it. Something about the sound and the slight scratchy yet cuteness in her voice. She was also beautiful, not model-worthy, but I never thought that was what made children beautiful. There's something about messy hair, small clothing, and an innocent face that has a radiant beauty no amount of put-together-ness-perfection can match. And I remembered her name.

I remembered her name all these years, and when my daughter was born, I decided to give her the same name. It's not that I wanted her to have a squeaky voice or to be like this little girl from my memories. It was just a positive association I had with this name. 

After four years, it finally happened. We were going about out evening and my daughter was telling me about her evening. My husband had taken the kids out while I was teaching, and after they returned, we were all getting ready for bed. I asked her what she did with Daddy and she was telling me. I was asking questions to clarify what she was telling me. At once point, she was trying to explain to me sitting on a four wheeler.

Mommy: Was it a jeep?

S: No, it wasn't a jeep. It was kind of like a motorcycle, but not a motorcycle, but it kind of looked like a motorcycle but it wasn't a motorcycle. 

"kind of like a motorcycle, but not a motorcycle"

And then that moment hit me, just like it had when I'd heard that little girl say to me, "I get you, I get you." The sound of my daughter's voice and what she was saying had this cuteness to it: the cute repetivive phrasing of her sentence and her perfectly enunciated English at four. 

I can't really explain why certain words and phrases and how they are said can sound so special when what's being said has no special meaning at all. But this was one of them.