Brother Jeffrey called the office today and asked for Trudy Fair. The secretary who answered the phone said, “I think you have the wrong number, sir.”
He was talking about me.
Of coure, I had to fill in the rest of the story. 😉
I was a cranky baby. I know you can’t believe it, but here’s proof.
For some reason, when I was a baby my parents had to put drops in my eyes. Apparently, I didn’t like having drops put in my eyes, and don’t forget, I was naturally cranky, so I’d keep them squenched closed as tight as I could.
You can’t sit on an infant and hold her head between your knees so you can have two hands free to pry open eyes and administer drops (that’s how I got pink-eye drops in my boys’ eyes when they fought the med–but they weren’t infants!)
Anyway, my dad came up with a solution. He sang to me–but only one song would get me to open my eyes.
Truly, Truly Fair. Ever heard that song? Me, either, except from Mom and Dad. (Dad must have liked it a lot!)
So Dad started calling me Truly Fair, then it changed to Trudy Fair and sometimes Trudy.
The really funny thing is, I had a good friend in college who called me Trudy, too. And she’d never heard the story. She just shortened Susan to Susie (ugh!) and Susie to Trudy.
That cranky baby got happier. I promise.