'We must send that book to David!' he says.
'David?" I ask. 'Which David?'
'You know, he had a birthday the other day.'
'My son David had a birthday in September.'
'No no, not him. My daughter's boy.'
'Oh, Jonathan! Yes you're right, we'll get it posted tomorrow.'
He decides to write in the book tonight. 'Dear David,' he says aloud as he picks up the pen.
'JONATHAN!' I yell.
'No, I'll just call him Jon.'
'J-O-N' I spell out, 'No "h"'.
He writes the message and gives me the book so I can sign it too. He has written 'John'. I can't rub it out without making a mess. Jon is 18 now; I hope he will understand and not be hurt.
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