Alexis can FINALLY spell her name correctly. It has taken months, but with much perseverance, I have finally managed to convince her that there really truly is not a "B" in her name. Or two. Or three. I'm pretty sure that if we had let Alexis name herself, she would have been "Bubba," unless she managed to find a name with even more B's in it. Vanna doesn't sell B's, fortunately, so Alexis is going to have to suffer a lifetime without it. She'll get over it.

Now that Alexis can spell (and read) her first name, I've started working with her to know how to spell her last name. Now, we don't have anything odd like Philapovich or something icky like Butts. We have a pretty generic name. Let's just pretend for a moment that it's Jones. It's not, but it is something equally normal.

As Alexis and I were driving to the Farmer's Market today, we had this conversation:

Me: What's your name?
Alexis: A.L.E.X.I.S. Alexis!
Me: Alexis Jones
Alexis: No, I Alexis. A.L.E.X.I.S. Alexis.
Me: Actually, you are Alexis Jones.
Alexis: No I not.
Me:Yeah, you are. Alexis Jones.
Alexis: NOOOOO!
Me: You are Alexis Jones.
Alexis: No I not
Me: Why not?
Alexis: I no like it.

Boys of Pittsburgh, if my darling daughter approaches you seeking marriage just so she can ditch that horrible awful last name, I should let you know that Mr. Husband built bombs in the military. Think it through, peeps.