A Second YaYa?

I picked up YaYa early from school for an appointment. As per procedure, I called the school, spelled our name, verified my first name and gave my complete address to the woman. Ten minutes later a girl knocked on my car window. It was YaYa - just not MY YaYa. They sent out the wrong kid. When I went in to get it straightened out I wasn't angry (they aren't kindergartners after all) but I did get peeved when they excused it by saying Polish names all look the same. "Is that what you'd tell a Rodriguez when you send out a Gonzalez?" I said.

Some weird coincidences with the other YaYa tho: her Dad's name is Dan, she too goes by Gracie, and she lives on Arthur Ave, the same street I grew up on. "Maybe you ARE my Dad," she said.