Anthony. Anthony from Canterbury. He has a lot to answer for.
The boys met Anthony last summer when we went to church in Deal. He was one of the people they played with while the grown ups listened to the sermon.
He doesn’t come from Canterbury. Really. He goes to school in Canterbury, which is almost the same thing.
In our family, his name has been used as a chant, usually as some sort of war cry to annoy the adults. Then the other day, oldest grandson experimented with the stresses and rhythms of the chant to produce some very clever choral speaking. He assigned different parts to his siblings and what had been a raucous war cry became a very pleasing sound experiment.
So Anthony, you may never know the fun we have had with your name, but know this; you will always be remembered with great affection in our family.