You know sometimes I write things and later think to myself why did I say that? Some of my readers would not have actually caught this one because you don’t know me personally but I am a bit surprised no one else called me out on it. My name is LEAH and in my last post I referred to it as being one syllable when in fact it’s two…Leeee-Ahhhh. Some damn fine English teacher I turned out to be, eh?
But in the same vein, for years I have been correcting people when they call me Lee. In fact, it sort of irritated me when people didn’t ‘get it’. Or worse, they called me “Laya”. When I was a kid the only person who was allowed to call me Lee was my Nana. I don’t know why, I hated it then too, but I guess she was a lot bigger than me and I was scared to correct her.
After she died my brother-in-law took on this term of affection and instead of correcting him I thought it was simply sweet because it reminded me of my Nana. But once again, Joe was the ONLY person allowed to call me Lee (my sister gets away with it too but only because when she calls me Leah I know she’s mad at me and I’m afraid of her). In Italy, every name seems to end with an ‘a’, eg. Maria, Luisa, Sara…so Leah just rang out naturally thank God. The only difference is they spell it Lia.
But speaking of sweet…Joe is now hanging out in heaven with my Nana and I am left with two fond memories of the bastardization of my name. One syllable or two…move over Cher and Madonna, I’m taking over the one name Diva corner bitches.
Hey, and by the way…these Italian strawberries are just as sweet 🙂 Can you tell they weren’t genetically modified to look like amazon strawberries with no taste?
These ACTUALLY taste like strawberries should. YUM YUM!