Don't Be A Smart Ass

Pulling out of my parents driveway yesterday I noticed the road sign that is for their road.  I still can't believe that it's the name of the road.

Quite a few years ago, the county required that their driveway become a private road instead of a driveway and needed a name.  My parents were actually quite excited about this.  As the oldest homeowners on the road, they were chosen to pick the name. 

They didn't want to use their last name because it wasn't just their road.  They considered using the name of the old man that lived there before them, which I thought was kind of sweet. 

But they weren't satisfied so they were making a list of characteristics of the neighborhood, the lake, the area.  They even called all of us kids to get our input. 

As my mom was listing all the options, ideas, etc. I mentioned that I remember my eldest brother scaring the ducks and mudhens away.  He used to wait for them to drift into the cove and shore in their big groups.  Then he would whip back the drapes to scare them away.  As a very young child I thought this was HYS.TER.ICAL.  As an adult, I thought this was a funny representation of my childhood: my brother being an obnoxious kid.

Meanwhile, I also mentioned that we used to ice skate most winters (thanks for taking that away climate change) and that the lake was always busy in the summer.

A few week later my mom calls to let me know what they choose.  I was waiting, anticipating a nice name like Tucker's Lane (the old man preceding them).  Nope.

Coots Cove Lane.

(Coots are kind of a mudhen.)

While it's lovely, I suppose, that they honored the memory, I could just imagine the neighbors surprise and dismay upon hearing that they had to change their address to that.

Lesson learned: Don't be a smart ass