After a 5pm mass exodus from the office due to semi-panic over the fact that some subway lines were down here in NYC, and crazy storm was brewing, I headed home.  It ended up being one of the smoothest commutes home that I’ve had in a long time.  As I walked into the door my boy was there to greet me as he always does when I make it home before he is in bed for the evening.

“Hi little guy.” I said to him. 

“Hi.” He continued, “Daddy, don’t call me Devin anymore. I changed my name.”

Of course I started to wonder if he had lost his mind.  Then I started to hope that it was a cool name like Butch, Bulldog, Rick, Kane, Barack, Vin (a name that I call him sometimes), or D-Rock.

“So what’s your new name, kid?”

“MTA Bus Driver.” 

Huh?  Apparently he changed his name earlier in the day and has been correcting his mother ever since she picked him up from school. “Mommy! my name is not Devin it’s MTA Bus Driver!,” he reminded her more than once. I think we’re allowed to call him MTA for short. 

I must say that I’m glad he’s thinking about his future and his career options at the age of four.  Competition is so tough these days that it’s probably a good idea to have a plan early on. Yesterday he told us that when he retires from being a police officer he’s going to become a doctor. I really like the thought of having a bus driving, law enforcing, doctor for a son.