“We are not naming our daughter Olive- oh! She kicked again!” Beatrice put a hand to her rounded stomach.
“See, she likes it,” Ben insisted, resting his own hand gently beside his wife’s, unable to suppress a delighted laugh as he felt the kicking too. “Hello, little Olive.”
“That is absolutely ridiculous, Benedick, there is no way our unborn child can understand what we’re talking about, much less pick her own name-”
“You have to admit, it has a nice ring to it, though,” said Ben. “Olive Duke-Hobbes…”
“It does not!”