What's In A Name?

Like many Cody stories, I have no idea what the origin of this story is. I can't remember what started it or why, but I can remember how ridiculous it was. It still makes me laugh. Even now. Even in the middle of all these waves of grief crashing down on me, Cody can still make me laugh.

*sigh*

Years ago, in the height of my scrapbooking crop days (I still scrapbook a lot, I just don't travel all over to crops any more), I helped host a crop right here in Sacramento. It was during the time when Troy and Lindsay were living up in Red Bluff. A relocation plan had gone south (I didn't get the job) and our house was practically empty from "staging" when it had been on the market to sell. So in order to lower costs a bit for some of these gals who were traveling from all over the United States I offered up my home as sleeping quarters. I had prearranged for Cody to be a Designated Driver should we need one (ironic since he was the one who needed one most of the time). One guest in particular, Lori, came from Louisiana and had somehow been involved in this silliness.

For whatever reason that I can no longer remember, the subject of Cody's name came up. I vaguely remember something about Lori making some official chauffeur's uniform for him, but I don't remember why he wanted a different name on it. NOT Cody. He wanted Benjamin.

So random, right? When I asked why in the world he would want to be called Benjamin his reply was so typically Cody.

"Because if someone asks what my name is I can tell them Been Jamin'."

Lori ran with it and showed up to the house with this, along with some Mardi Gras beads:

And, of course, Cody embraced it in all its ridiculousness:

In case you were wondering, yes he wore it out of the house.

For years.