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“A letter from the great-grandson.” He shakes his head sadly. “Sweet boy, but I don’t know how he’s going to make it through school with that name. Eustace .” “Maybe he’ll go by a nickname,” I offer, but Ernie isn’t going for it. “What sort of nickname? Eu? Stace?” He folds the letter and gingerly sets it on the coffee table in front of him. “Ah, well. His mother says she labored with him for two and a half days, so he deserves it.” — Sarah Everett
A letter from the great-grandson.” He shakes his head sadly. “Sweet boy, but I don’t know how he’s going to make it through school with that name. Eustace .”
“Maybe he’ll go by a nickname,” I offer, but Ernie isn’t going for it. “What sort of nickname? Eu? Stace?” He folds the letter and gingerly sets it on the coffee table in front of him. “Ah, well. His mother says she labored with him for two and a half days, so he deserves it.