My ex husband and my youngest daughter’s first and last initials are JB. Not planned, it doesn’t mean anything special, that’s just the way it turned out. Later my older daughter dated a young man who went by the initials JB.
We used to go camping for a long weekend every July or August in SouthWestern Virginia. We also went to the very Southern tip of North Carolina for the week of Thanksgiving for many years. When my youngest daughter was in grade school, at some point along the drive when we would see a JB Hunt semi, I would say, “Oh no, duck! There’s JB Hunt-looking for you and dad.” It seemed harmless enough, we laughed, I didn’t think anything of it…Until…one day we were driving on the highway-going somewhere local, not on a vacation of any sort-and my youngest daughter, from the back seat, screams, “AAAAAAAAA JB HUNT!!” It was at that moment I realized I had gone too far. Within the next few days I got online and contacted the JB Hunt trucking company. I explained the story of apparently traumatizing my young child and that her birthday was coming up soon. I asked if they had a photo they could send that said Happy Birthday. What I got was a digital photo that I put “Happy Birthday” on and what my daughter got was a package from the company with a mouse pad, two drink sleeves, a pen and a couple of miniature tennis balls all with the JB Hunt logo on them. Crisis averted! (Trauma, well, I’m pretty sure she has forgiven me, but she still talks abut it!)
My Patio 