I had the pleasure of meeting sweet little Kennedy this past Sunday. I was friends with her Aunt Sarah in high school so it was an especially fun session to see her family again.

I’m usually really good with names. Its actually something I am obsessed about – I like to come to my sessions feeling prepared so I’m not stumbling over everyone’s name (“Hey you. No, no the shorter one. Could you stand next to your sister? No not that sister, the older one.” See what I’m getting at? That would be my worst nightmare.) But for some reason I didn’t get Kennedy’s name before the session. Grave mistake.

I asked Kennedy’s mom as soon as I got there (who’s name is also Sarah) to remind me of her name. She thought I meant her. I, however, was talking about  Kennedy. So when she told me Sarah I just assumed 1. They really like the name Sarah and 2. I’ve always seen babies named after the dad so why not mom? (and Aunt). I went with it. I know, I’m a dork.  We got a good laugh out of it halfway through the session when I finally learned that Kennedy was really Kennedy.