I protest the poll. There was only one choice available. What about polyamorous families?!

Prejudice! Bigotry! ;p

OK. You all want a laugh about names? I know you're going to enjoy this one.

My last name is Kock.

It it pronounced "cook." Or, as an alternate option, "coke."

No, it is not Koch. That's a K at the end, baby. Also, well-meaning people try to morph it in to "knock" instead of a rooster or a male anatomy bit.

Now, to take this further still, my husband's name is Michael. When he was in high school and the teacher called attendance, they asked: "Is my cock here?"

I swear I am not making this up.

Aww Juni, you are something else.

In college I dated a guy with the last name Cockman. I swear, he was awesome, and if it had gone that direction I would have considered marrying him. I did wonder how I would deal with that last name? lol...luckily he went back with his HS sweetheart.

When I got divorced, I kept my married name. I was tired of spelling out my maiden name, or explaining how to pronounce it if it was written down. Now my name is completely symmetrical (4 letters each first middle and last) and I like it. My maiden name is from French-speaking Switzerland: it's cool really but keeping the married name was fine with me: easier all the way around. :)

This is not my story, but it's one of my favorites:

My younger brother came home from elementary school, telling my mom about the cute red-headed girl in his class. As they got older, they became a couple. They had much in common: for instance their love of hilarious Brady Bunch trivia (she still cracks him up with occasional lines from the BB):)

They've been married, oh my gosh, over 10 years. They have 3 beautiful girls to whom they are amazing parents. They have a beautiful home in the country. They LIKE each other, and everyone I know who knows them likes them.

My older brother is re-married, to a wonderful woman. They are great together too. If I could want anything for my loved ones it's that they are loved and happy. It makes me happy to be around them all.

My bro and his wife have an amazing marriage. 19 years now with two growing girls, and still in love. Still best friends.

When I was working at a photolab a customer came in to drop off film and her name was Grewcock. It was late afternoon and I was punchy, I'm sure she saw my attempt at stifling an enormous bark of laughter. It made it up into my nostrils and came out as sounding like a choking beagle. PLus bloody cheeks from biting so hard.

She had a pretty steely look when she left.

Heh, my friend from my old job emailed me to tell me she had come across the funniest name EVAH: Dickensheets.

I was like "old news. Mrs Dickensheets was my grandma's neighbor and gossip buddy, my brothers and I have done all the jokes therein." :lol:

I apologize for my thread drifting. ;)

There isn't an option for divorcing/separated.:greenface

I was all for keeping my maiden name (after I'd had it for over forty years before we got married) but then I thought "We're becoming a different type of unit" and I thought it made sense to share a name ... so I took his.

Got together on 08/08/88 still going strong.

Good on ya, to pick a date that works in both American and European formats.

The 88th doesn't work as a day.

09/09/09 however will. So it's a good time for the unattached to begin making plans.

Awww, I can't wait to be you guys. :) I took my husband's last name and changed my middle name to my maiden name. One reason is that my father has no brothers and no sons, so we're the end of the line who'll carry his name. The other is that, like you, I hated my given middle name; Doreen. Don't get me wrong, I actually love that name as a first name, but when combined with Jill it just sounds so hickish. I've especially hated it since learning that my middle name was originally supposed to be Dana, which I think is quite beautiful. But when my mother was practicing the name on me while still in the hospital, her roommate mistook 'Jill Dana' for 'Jill, dammit', which prompted choosing a different 'D' name. Grumble. We just passed the 8 year mark for being "together" and are fast approaching (next month) our 7 year wedding anniversary, and I, too, still feel pure bliss in our happiness together.

True story. . . Way back in the 1930s, my grandmother was a divorced woman (from a physically abusive husband - Go Baba for having brass balls back when women didn't leave their husbands!), caring for her diabetic mother and a 5 year old daughter. Her brother had recently passed away and a friend wanted to fix her up on a blind date with a man whose mother had also recently died, thinking that at least they'd have something in common. My Baba refused. Not interested. Death's not a thing to have in common that would forge a strong bond. Too many responsibilities to go about dating.

The friend decided to ignore my Baba's concerns and gave the man her number anyway. He phoned and invited her to dinner. She refused. He pleaded that she had to eat anyway, why not get a free meal. She relented.

On that first date he was so smitten that he offered to "put her up in an apartment" and keep a key for himself. She told him he'd have to buy the cow if he wanted the free milk, but she was not interested in being married, so go away and leave her alone.

He did leave, as he was a "ladies ready-to-wear" traveling salesman. On his first day away he sent chocolates. On the second day, flowers. On the third, stockings (difficult to get during the war). He cut his trip short to come home to convince her to marry him. He said he'd take care of her mother and adopt her daughter as his own. Her mother said she'd be a fool to refuse.

He made her a deal; marry him on a 30-day trial basis, and if he hadn't made her happy in 30 days, she could have an annulment and he would leave her alone forever. She accepted. On the eve of their first day of marriage, he pulled out a homemade calendar with 30 days on it, and asked, "Did I make you happy today, dear?" She said that yes, he had. So he put a big X on the first day. Every night for the next 29 days he would ask if he'd made her happy that day. He always had. At the end of 30 days she was completely in love with him, and he spent the next 25 years making sure she was happy every, single day until the day he died.

On the eve of my wedding day, May 26th, 2002, as we were climbing in to bed for the night, my new husband turned to me and said, "Did I make you happy today, dear?"

No, he did not know that story at the time.

For seven years now, hardly a day goes by that he doesn't reaffirm that he still makes me happy, which of course he does. I feel very blessed indeed.

Rest in peace, Baba and Poppy. You set a fine example.

I have been without a significant other for . . . 22 years.

Hallelujah!

Kept my married name though, because it's just so much easier.

That would be "single at the moment"?