Half of the time

Half of the time my mom calls me by my name, and half of the time she doesn’t. Most of the time, when she calls me by a different name, she calls me by my sister’s name. And sometime she calls my sister by my name. I always know what she means, but it doesn’t make it less hard.

It’s a short-term memory thing. And the fact that my name is kinda hard to say – hard vowels and hard consonants and all that. But mostly it’s the short-term memory thing. She can’t remember much in the short term; you ask her to remember three words, and she can barely remember them long enough to repeat them. Five minutes later they’re totally gone.

I guess I should be glad that she can say my name at all – and I am. But it would be even nicer if she could call me by my name more than half the time.