Today, the memorial of Saint George, is a day that gets me thinking about my name. You see, my father was George William:
His father was George Arthur:
His father was George:
His father was Ambrose:
Ambrose is seated, with the white beard.
The point I am making is that I should have been named George, in keeping with three generations of tradition. I should have been George IV. Instead, I was given the name Daren, the reason for which I have never asked.