”Hi, I’m Kemi. It’s nice to meet you.”
“ Kimmy? Kami? Tammy? What?”
“Nope, Kemi. K-E-M-I, like ‘chemistry’. It’s Japanese.”
“Oh. That’s pretty. I’ve never heard that name before. Okay. Kemi. Chemistry. I can remember that.”
I’ve found that life is often like that. I think I’m speaking as clearly as possible, using vivid imagery and making a solid, irrefutable mental picture, when I realize that for all my verbal prowess, my target audience is staring at me with a befuddled, glazed-eye stare. I’ve decided that is has less to do with my delivery and more to do with my listeners’ limited experience with the chosen subject matter, just like with my name.
That has to be it, right? Oh well. If it’s not, I’m used to it. Four kids and a husband give me daily confirmation that I am truly, accidentally, utterly misunderstood.