Caves found on Mars! Martian spelunking, anyone?
April 3, 2007
One of Erin’s piano student parents just called and left a message on our machine (I never get the home line because it’s never for me). Anyway, she mentioned the name of her child and I almost spit my milk out. I won’t print it here, because Google has a a long memory, and I don’t want to get an angry email from junior when he/she starts the vanity searches, but suffice it to say the name was a howler. It was something along the lines of “hello, this is Mrs. Shoe and I’m calling about my son Muddy“, or “Mr. Skye here about my daughter Cloudy”. Seriously, people, why would you handicap your kids with a name like Plymouth Rock? (I knew him in elementary school).
I’m all for the unusual names (Erin’s cousin Seta has a great one, in my opinion), but saddling a child with a name that is also a dairy food, natural event, or skin condition is premeditated cruelty. They may eventually appreciate your creative choice (if they don’t run away and change it, first), but it’ll only be after years of taunts. Sheesh.