Thank goodness it wasn't a Texaco

Shortly after my parents married, my father was transferred to Dauphin, Manitoba.  Both of them had been life long residents of Saskatchewan, so my dad was worried that my mom might have difficulty meeting people and making friends.  Like I said, my parents were newly married so they didn't know each other that well.  My dad didn't need to worry.  My mom was the kind of person who created a party wherever she went.  Regardless, my dad thought that it would be great if they bought a gas station/convenience store.  My mom could operate the store during the day and my dad would help out after work and on weekends.  There was small living quarters in the back of the store, so it seemed perfect. 

When we owned the store, it was bright yellow as opposed to the current grey.  The two gas pumps are long gone.  It was named "Sandy's" after the previous owner. 

My father was married prior to my mom.  He had four children.  When my mother got married, she not only became a wife but a step-mother and a grandmother.  My father was approaching retirement and they had no plans to have children.  At that time, conventional wisdom was that an older man would produce a child with Down's Syndrome.  Conventional wisdom also was that a man over the age of 55 was, well, shooting blanks. 

So, living and working in a gas station wasn't really my mom's idea of a honeymoon, but her and my dad made the best of it.  My mom did meet friends.  She partied hardy.  She smoked and she drank alcohol.  My dad used to joke that she was once saw a billboard for ginger ale that said, "Drink Canada Dry" and my mom thought this was an order !!

Also, my mom didn't really like doctors.

One day, while pumping gas, she felt she pulled something in her back.  And her back pain continued throughout the day.  She worked through her pain and waited until my dad could come home from work to take over the store so she could go see a doctor.  After examination, she was informed that she hadn't pulled a muscle, she was in labour.  She phoned my dad who thought she was playing an April's Fools joke in October. 

My parents talked and decided that they were not going to get excited.  After all, my mom didn't have any prenatal care.  There was a lot of factors going against a healthy baby emerging.  Regardless, I was born.  A little tiny, but otherwise well.  My parents still didn't want to get their hopes up as they still didn't think this was going to work out well.  The hospital staff knew the circumstances so they didn't want to pressure my parents so they gave them some time.  However, it was two days later and it was time to register this birth.  It looked like there was nothing wrong with me and things were going to work out.  I needed a name. 

Well, my dad had four children.  He had already used all of the names he liked.  My mother was still overwhelmed.  How was she manage an infant and a gas station? 

So, they were really at a loss of what to name me.  Then, the lightbulb went on.  They owned a gas station.  It was a Shell station.  I was named after a gas station.  Thank goodness, it wasn't a Texaco.