At ten o' clock this morning I threw a hissy fit because Vicky's new insurance policy listed his nominee as 'Sunayana Roy Niyogy'.
My hissy fit was not because I object to being called Sunayana Niyogy, because I don't. Lots of people address me as Mrs. Niyogy or even Mrs. Soubhik Niyogy and I quite enjoy it. But since I have chosen to retain my maiden name only (I don't like the rhythm of 'Roy Niyogy') I make it a point to call myself only Sunayana Roy on all official documents. Especially in insurance matters, where I've had a claim dismissed on a lie (their lie, not mine), where I recognise the importance of what might seem like a minor aberration.
So I was mighty pissed at the officiousness of the agent who had added the Niyogy to my name despite us giving him a piece of paper with our names written down the way we wanted them. And because Vicky was stupid enough to tell me it wasn't such a big deal, I took it all out on him. This from a man who has objected to being addressed as Mr. Roy, mind you.
So anyway, there was my hissy fit and I went to work simmering. Calmed down over the course of the day -- the agent has promised to rectify the name -- and I came home.
At ten o' clock this evening I was trying to teach Pintsize some alphabets. So R for 'Ra-gul', P for Phuli, L for Lattu, G for Giga... N for Niyogy. I mentioned that he was a Niyogy, as was his father and grandmother. And he consolingly hugged me and said I was one too. And I peacefully agreed and mentally laughed over my hissy fit twelve hours earlier.