With the bright idea of trying to build credit for our son, Chris, we had put our family cell phone in his name. This meant that the bills came to my house to pay, but it was under his name (he doesn’t live here). It also meant that when anyone in our family called anyone from one of our cell phones, it showed up on their caller ID as “Christopher Berardi“. My friends would wonder, “why is Chris calling me instead of his mother?”
After a few years of this, it just got to be a pain due to various reasons, and we decided to just shift it all back into my name. Since we thought it would save time to just do this over the phone while we were driving (therefore speaker-phone quality), we did it that way. Both of us had to be there to say “yes I agree to pass over the liability of payment to Sarah….blah blah blah, and “yes, I accept……blah”. It took over an hour. Very frustrating to say the least. It would have been so much quicker to just run into the store, wait our turn, and have someone switch it over on the computer right in front of us.
After the long hour which felt like two, I received my first phone call from Andrea, using the phone on our family plan. Viola! Instead of saying “Christopher Berardi” it says……..”Farah Berardi???????” NOOOOOOO.
I’m so sensitive about the way I say my Ss! I’ve gotten so much mail from people addressed to Farah Berardi over the years, and it makes me spittin‘ mad. Since I was in fourth grade and the teacher decided I needed speech therapy for my “lisp” – the speech therapist pulled me out of class and made me say “Sarah had six silly sisters”. But I said “Tharah hathz thix thilly thithterth“. I HAD A MILLION TEETH MISSING. I did NOT have a lisp! (Not that there’s anything wrong with it.)
Another thing I’m sensitive about is the H at the end of my name. When I was a new kid in a new school in second grade, the teacher called me up in front of the class on the fourth day or so of school and said, out loud, in front of everyone, “Sarah, you’re not spelling your own name correctly, you’re putting an H at the end of your name, and you don’t have an H at the end of your name.” I told her that I did. She said according to her records, I did not, and I’d have to bring a note in from my parents. Which I did. But she had so humiliated me. Did she read my mom’s note out loud to everyone to prove I was right? NO. (Am I a grudge holder?)
So, now our phones all say Farah Berardi. At least there’s an H at the end. And I should tell the buttheads that Farah has two Rs.