The Missus

For a while after we were married, my wife kept her maiden name. It made sense because she already had a nice professional relationship at the bank where she works under her maiden name and I couldn’t care less about it. In fact I thought it made me as something of a progressive man who liked my wife to have her own identity. In the progressive city of Ann Arbor, married women who still use their maiden name I think probably out number the traditional ones. But as my wife’s time at her job draws to a close before her maternity leave, she’s decided to change her name on everything and it’s kind of cool.

The first time I saw my name matched with hers was an email she sent me from her job. In the signature line it listed her name as Rebecca Kilgore-Quertermous. Actually, I take that back. The first time I saw it was when she changed her Facebook name to the hyphenated version. And then this week all of her credit cards and things started rolling in with the new name. For me, seeing the Quertermous name on my wife’s cards and driver’s license is almost as cool as seeing my name in print in a bookstore. I don’t know why this is. Is it my oppressive patriarchal side bubbling to the surface?

Now maybe she can get more Google hits as Rebecca Quertermous because there’s no jazz singer out there with that name already.