Stuck in the Middle With You

We solved your name problem. But first - some history.

I don't know whether I've told you this yet, but you're 18 now, so one assumes I have, and we're all OK with it, otherwise you're not reading this and it's all moot anyway. Jesus I'm beginning to sound like Dr Emmett Brown in all this 'writing to your as-yet-unborn 18 year-old offspring' carry-on.

Wait, I did show you Back to the Future, right? OK, good.

So, the surname thing needs some back-story and just in case I've not mentioned it, here are some thoughts:

1. My surname is Jones. My Dad's name is Barry Ernest Jones. Mike - the guy you know as Grandad or whatever we've decided on - is my step-dad. His surname is Cranidge, so just be thankful you're not stuck spelling that one every 28 minutes.
        
        1a. Mike is excellent. 

2. As I write this, in September 2017, I've not spoken to my Dad in person since 1991. That's 26 years. We have to date exchanged three letters in that time, which served only to reinforce my previously held opinions re: the true extent of his dickishness.

3. I like my surname, despite it reminding me of (a) the fact that I have no living relations left from before Mum married Excellent Mike in 1990, and (b) that my only real relation is Not A Nice Man.

4. My Dad is not a murderer, or a drug addict, or a paedophile, though, just for context. He's a very financially successful businessman and entrepreneur who inherited a lot of money early, lost his parents when he was young, shagged around, got drunk a lot, had some really good times on boats, and developed some really mysoginistic, boorish ideas, but he's not Darth Vader. He is not the Antichrist. He's just Not A Nice Man.

5. That said, he has, however, done some fairly horrible things. He is vindictive. He is a bully. He is a womaniser, a heavy smoker, and, as my Mum went to her grave saying, a 'no-good alcoholic' who beat her. He was never violent towards me or Lucy, but he was clearly capable of violent outbursts and nasty, victimising behaviour, even when we were young kids.

6. My earliest memory is from when I was about three. I listened to my parents rowing downstairs, my father throwing a plate, which smashed on the wall, and my Mum sobbing quietly as she tidied up the mess. When one of his girlfriends left him, he taped me and Lucy's sobbed entreaties to her to return - because we really liked her - and mailed her the tape. I could go on. I may have already, who knows?

In short, this is not a man I want you to emulate or be reminded of every time you sign something.

7. You are not allowed to hate him, either - you have no reason to. Jones is not poisonous; it is strong, and noble, and ancient. It is one of the oldest names in the English language, and it is also mine.

So, when all's said and done, the best thing to do is to combine the best bits and make something new. Your being a Jones means a great deal to me. Therefore, it has to be part of your name, nestled as it is in the middle of everything. As well as my Dad and me, it also refers to Lucy - the last person to pass away with that name. There's someone to look up to. Ever since we decided to really think about making a child, I have always foreseen you being called Hutchings - nothing else 'sits' quite right with me.

If you're really nasty though, I'll change it to Hutchings-Jones, and you can have the most annoying email address in the world. So think on, kidder xxx.