The Bahdziewicz clan trooped into the Mule Barn for lunch the other day, happily and noisily as only eight Americans totally in love with spring can do. The patriarch of the clan, Abraham Lincoln Bahdziewicz, led the way to a large round table and seated his wife, Sally, before pointing to which chairs the kids should use. Some people can make a celebration out of sitting down to eat, and Abe’s gang knows how to do it.
The children, clockwise, were Woodrow Wilson Bahdziewicz, Betsy Ross Bahdziewicz, Neal Armstrong Bahdziewicz, John Kennedy Bahdziewicz, and Franklin Delano Bahdziewicz. Sally got a high chair for the youngest family member, Laura Bush Bahdziewicz. (It’s pronounced bot-CHEV-itch)
We watched them order four meals for the seven of them, along with some empty plates for divvying things up. Then we took bets on whether or not they would have to ask for a “to go” box or two to take home with them. They didn’t. Laura Bush Bahdziewicz had to have chocolate cream pie wiped from her face twice during dessert, too.
Before they packed up to go, Abe came over to shake hands with the members of the world dilemma think tank here at the philosophy counter. He always looks as though he’s just headed home to open Christmas presents, and we envied him for that wonderful zest for life.
“Abe,” said Doc, when it was his turn to shake hands, “we’ve been wondering. You’re named after a president, and all your kids are named for famous Americans.”
“That’s right,” Abe said. “My brothers and sister, too. All of us but my wife, Sally, and I call her Sally Ride Bahdziewicz sometimes, just for fun.”
“How did all that naming come about?”
“Well,” Abe said, “my dad came from Poland as a kid, and the other kids at school teased him about not being a real American, you know? So he decided his kids would never have that problem. They may have some trouble pronouncing the last name, but at least they know we’re Americans.”
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