Marie Ann McKinney-Oates.
By the time I get to the second ‘n’ I’m excited because I’m almost done signing my name. That’s not a good thing.
My mom laughed when she saw my license.
“You’re silly,” she said.
“You aren’t supposed to keep your middle name when you’ve kept all your names.”
“But McKinney-Oates is my whole last name, it’s one piece. I’m not like you and dropped my middle name to fill in with my last name… don’t judge me.”
“It’s just really long.”
I knew it was really long. But I like Ann. And I was keeping it goshdarnit.
“Woman, what are you laughing about now?”
Yeah. I noticed that, too. I had poorly planned the spacing for my new name. You’ll see that I don’t seem to realize this is going to be a problem until I get to about the ‘K’ in McKinney (as opposed to the k’s in your name, Marie?), and just smoosh the rest of it onto the electronic pad I was signing. Not to mention I am too big of a weenie to ask for a do over.
So there it is my gigantically long and illegible signature.