When I was pregnant with mythird child and we found out it was a boy, Bernie was naturally over the moon. I did not have to think about what name I was going to give him, because I knew I wanted to call him Joseph. But since we gave the two girls a second name that started with a V, we wanted to keep it going with Joseph. Again, I did not have to think twice about it. I wanted to call him Vincent, after Van Gogh.

Fast forward to seven years later when I was pregnant with my fourth child. I didn’t bother finding out about the gender because I wanted it to be a surprise for once. All throughout the 34 weeks that I carried that child, I was adamant that it was a girl. And then of course I was proven wrong when Patrick came out. He was born on the eve of St. Patrick’s Day, hence the first name. But, dear God almighty, I was stumped for a second name that started with a V.

So he ended up as a Vincent as well. It sounds good anyway and it’s a good Christian name. So began the tale of the two Vincents.


They are similar in so many ways, from when they were babies up to now. They both love food. A lot. They both love basketball, which they play every chance they get. Even at the small money-making tricks at the supermarkets.

Patrick likes fast things, when it comes to his games anyway.

Joseph loves to blow things up. But not in real life.

Yes, Patrick is my baby, for a few more years I think. Although he is starting to get icky when I hug and kiss him all over.

Boys will be boys. Esp when we go to game shops. They could spend the entire day there playing the free trial games.

Joseph’s got a mobile phone and Patrick wants one. But we agreed he will get his when he turns 10. That gives me 3 more years to figure out another excuse.

Why settle for one, when you can have two Vincents, right? Life is more interesting that way.