Ol' What's-Her-Name

The other day, I was in the kitchen with Helen and Brian. Helen was sitting in her high chair, while I was making dinner and talking to Brian. I don't remember what the conversation was about (typical), and at one point, my rusty memory failed me yet again, and a particular name escaped me.

Jennie: Oh, you know ... I can't remember ... what's-his-name?

Helen: (pipes up) Helen. My name is Helen.

Okay, so fair warning: she's paying attention to our conversations. Good to know. REALLY good to know.

But it reminded me of the times my mother called me and my sister by the dog's name. We reminded our mother all the time what our actual names were, not that it really helped much.

Clearly, a mother's brain just overflows, and the minor details (like names) fall right out. It's a good thing Helen is getting started early on reminding me.