Names

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OK, first real post (and there should be a ‘d’ before ‘river’ in the previous post. In case you were wondering).

I don’t have kids myself, but I’ve often thought that something happens to people’s brains when they reproduce. Maybe they have them removed, I don’t know. Normally sane, sensible people go very weird, and people who were weird to begin with go outright Looney-Tunes.

Take kids’ names, for instance. It’s an important thing, your name. You’re stuck with it all your life, unless you get it changed. And you’re certainly stuck with it as a kid. So don’t you think a loving parent would choose the kind of name that wouldn’t cause trouble?

But no…

My husband knew a girl called Pearl Harbour. And that’s pretty tame in the schedule of appalling names parents inflict on their kids. What were they thinking? I bet they thought it was just too cute. ‘Pearl Harbour’ – a real laugh at dinner parties.

Then there’s the other kind, where the loving parents go entirely the other way and pick the same name as every other kid born that year. So junior goes through childhood thinking his name’s Joshdee (and the kid next to him in class is Joshbee).

And names that are contractions of other names…. Molly! Sounds like a rag doll. It certainly doesn’t sound like Ms Executive. At least call the kid Margaret, then you can call her Molly while she’s at home and when she leaves she can change it to Maggie, or Peggy, or Marge, or Greta, or whatever…

And before you ask… Theophania only on the most formal of occasions. Otherwise, it’s Tiffany, or Tiff. Theo is dreadful, and as far as I’m concerned, Fanny is an invitation to Grievous Bodily Harm. You Have Been Warned.

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