I blame J

Before I got married, my last name was Plenkovich. Quite a mouthful, huh? Quick side note: when I was really little, I used to tell people my name was "Na-na Plenksabitch" instead of Kristina Plenkovich. Embarrassing. My baby sister still calls me Na-Na. I think that's cute, though. Especially because I usually call her either Princess or Brat.

Well, Plenkovich was quite a mouthful. If I could hardly say it, I couldn't really blame others for messing it up, could I?

Once I got married, I was looking forward to taking J's last name, Hocking. I thought it would be so much easier. I mean, how can you mess up Hocking?

Turns out there's lots of ways. Kids have called me: Mrs. H, Hock, Hawking, Hockey, and my personal favorite, Hockings. When they call me Hockings, I usually respond by saying, "Yes, Johnnys?" Or, "Yes, Sallys?" Perhaps it's not so subtle, but it doesn't matter how many times I tell people it's Hocking, NO S, they add it anyway. And it's not just kids.

Though kids are the only ones who pretend to "hock" (intentional misspelling, by the way!) up a loogie as they say my name. Thankfully it's usually only once or twice. And I have perfected my disgusted / annoyed reaction to such a degree that I only have to look at a kid and roll my eyes and they don't do it again.

But I've learned to roll with the punches. None of it is new. In the last five and half years, I thought I had heard it all.

Until last week when I picked up a prescription from the pharmacy.

I've been sick many times in the last five years. I've got allergies. I've had LOTS of trips to the pharmacy. I sort of bounced around from store to store, though, until the WalGreens opened up near my house two years ago. Ever since they opened, I've completed most of my medical purchases there. All pharmacies file your prescriptions by last name so the pharmacist can retrieve them easily. I’m not sure how I missed this with every other prescription I’ve picked up, but WalGreens pulls the first two letters of your last name out and makes them big in the upper left hand corner.

This wasn’t a problem when I was Plenkovich.

It is a problem now. Can you see it?

I blame J.

When I pointed it out to him, he laughed at me. Then we got to talking, and during our conversation I was bombarded with other “ho” memories. I thought I’d take a minute to share them with you.

The first one I shared here. Basically, I called a student’s mom a loose woman on accident. It truly was an accident, but it was one of the funniest / most embarrassing moments of my teaching career thus far.

My next “ho” story comes from my days of student teaching. We had pulled desks into a circle because we were going to read out loud together from To Kill A Mockingbird. I’m sure most people have read this novel, so I’ll spare you the synopsis. Just know that because there is some strong language, I told kids they didn’t have to say the “bad” words out loud if they were uncomfortable with it. We were all following along and could see the words skipped. No big deal, right? We got started, and two of my boys were talking and talking and talking and wouldn’t stop. I kept the reading going, but was distracted by figuring out how to write the detention slips, so I wasn’t on the same page as the kids. The young lady who was reading paused and asked, “Ms. P? Should I say the ‘h’ word?” I had a slight moment of panic because I had previewed the day’s reading and hadn’t seen any words I thought would be a problem. I collected myself and told her to skip it if she was uncomfortable, and then frantically skimmed to catch up.

We were reading the part of the book during the trial scene when Tom Robinson was testifying on his own behalf. He says that he had been called inside the house by Mayella Ewell to “bust up a chiffarobe” for her. Pretty benign, right?

He used a garden hoe to do it.

She thought "hoe" was "ho" and that we should skip it because it was inappropriate.

Can you imagine him busting up a chiffarobe with a ho? Would he grab her by the ankles or the hair to swing her around?? I nearly wet my pants from laughing so hard.

And one more school "ho" story. (I originally wrote about it here.) Every year I read Romeo and Juliet with freshmen. Most people don't realize this, but much of Shakespeare is dirty. If the kids picked up on half of what Shakespeare was saying, perhaps I wouldn't have to fight so hard to get them enthusiastic about reading it. It's really funny what they do pick up on, though. In R and J, Lord Capulet says, "Give me my longsword, ho!"

Ho, as in an exclamation, similar to "Hey!" or "Oh!" And it should be read without stopping.

Inevitably, students read it, "Give me my longsword, (long pause) ho!" And then the rest of the class dissolves into giggles as I have to patiently explain yet again that no, Lord Capulet did NOT call his wife a ho.And later, Mercutio and Benvolio discuss poor, lovestruck Romeo. They say his "very heart has been cleft with the blind bow boy's butt shaft." Good lord, try to get control back after some poor kid stumbles over that line. Couldn't Shakespeare have just said Cupid? I don't suppose he was thinking four hundred years into the future, though.

My last “ho” story did not take place at school. It took place in the backseat of my dad’s car.

Wait, that sounds bad.

Let me start over. Two years ago, at Christmas, my sisters were in the backseat of my dad’s car. They were on their way to my dad’s family Christmas party with Dad and Mel. (J and I were at his folks that Christmas Eve. I wish I had been there, though, because this story is going to go down in our family’s history book.) Out of the blue, T asks L, “Does it ever get confusing for you at this time of year?”

L was befuddled. “Confusing for me?? Why??”

T said, “With people calling your name all the time?”

L was still confusaled.

T said, “Hearing people calling you all the time must get confusing. You know, ho, ho, ho…”

Ha, ha, ha!

How funny was that? We still laugh about it every time we tell the story.

So, while I have more than my fair share of “ho” stories, I take some comfort in this: according to the pharmacy, J, too, is a “ho.”