I have two brothers and a sister; the order goes Bryan, Flurge, Succubus, and Cherubim.
Okay, I’m just kidding about those names. My sibs occasionally read this blog and they deserve better blog names than that. Maybe it should be Bryan, Zues, Aphrodite, and Mars. No, that also sucks. Let’s just call the other three Flip, Susie, and Rick. Flip and I are less than two yrs apart; there’s a gap of 6 years before Susie & Rick (also about 2 yrs apart).
For a over a decade I lived at home with a much younger girl-boy pair I helped take care of; Flip and I changed a fair number of diapers.
Now that I have my own children, I consistently call them the wrong names. In a way, it’s like Sam and David have slipped into the pre-formed slots (ie, younger girl-boy pair whom I love and care for) formerly occupied by Susie & Rick.
I call both pairs by the other pairs’ names, actually: I say Rick instead of David; sometimes I say “my sister” when I mean “my daughter”. I thought I’d get better at it as my kids developed more complete and distinct personalities of their own, but it hasn’t.
All I can conclude is that my self-absorption is so complete that I can’t even be bothered to distinguish among the various people who come in and out of my life. If I start just calling all the men I know “Bob” and the women “Jennifer”, you’ll understand, won’t you?