The Parade of Bad, Bad Baby Names on Mother's Day from PBS Sprout
When the Daughter With One F insists on watching PBS Sprout in our house, I have something I do to maintain my sanity. I watch the various birthday wishes that you can send in to The Birthday Show flash across the screen, and I make fun of the names of the children mercilessly. On Mother's Day, kids send in their well wishes for mom all day, and so you get the full brunt of the oddball name parade.
Let's be clear. I know this is a horrid, petty thing to do, and that doing it in front of my daughter is repugnant. I accept this and your judgment. You are firmly on the moral high ground if you skip the rest of this article and call me a monster in the comments. I will not blame you at all.
That said... Dearest God and everything Hee Haw, the names that people decide to hang on their children! I have never understood the desire to find the best "unique" baby name in the world. I know a dozen Jeffs, Geoffs and even one other Jef, and I have never once forgotten which one I was or felt less special. Besides, science says naming your kids something wacky usually sends them toward a life of crime. Ain't that right, Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop?
In order to help fully re-create the experience, I decided to give you a minute-by-minute breakdown of what I went through on Mother's Day as my wife soaked in a Lush bath and I allowed TV to rear my offspring.
12:15: This was the name that started out the slow descent of my madness...Wynter Eve. I don't know exactly what chemical is in the water that makes all the world Welsh post-natal, but I would really appreciate the government looking into it. Nah, they're probably in the pocket of the powerful Y lobby anyways.
12: 17: You know, Sesame Street is still a really terrific show. They have bales of hay playing punk music and Elmo remains adorable. I hope Super Grover flies into a wood chipper, though.
12:24: I'm on my fourth Hunter by this point. That's a perfectly acceptable boy's name, true, but it makes me wonder why no one follows it up with Gatherer. You could spell it Gathyrer!
12:34: By now I'm posting these names on Facebook. A girl named Sarah I went to high school with tells me her child's soccer team has twins named Indigo (girl) and Denim (boy). I would probably be arrested for pun abuse if I knew these kids. "In ya go, girl child, den him!"
Sarah also knows a girl named Nevaeh... "Heaven" spelled backwards. It's ironic the things that convince you God is dead.
12:42: Galyn. We're probably another 15 years away from it being safe to name your kid anything that starts with "gay," though civil rights is moving pretty fast lately.
12: 43: Marieanna. How would Andrew Eldritch sing that?
12:45: Neva. I immediately wondered if she had a sister named Eva and if Taylor Swift could use them to say definitively whether we might get back together again. Then I remembered that Eva is a real-world name, and thank Neveah because I'd almost forgotten real names existed by then.
Potty break for the little princess. "Daddy, are you okay? Your eye is twitching."
1:01: Back from the potty and Sesame Street has given way to Lazy Town. I like Lazy Town, and not just because Sportacus got invited to play Duck Duck Goose at the White House with Michelle Obama. Oh look, Rhyder! Oh look, blood!
1:05: Really, autocomplete? You knew I was going to type Justinian? Great, even Robot God is dead.
1:06: I wonder which is the bigger pedo-bait, Lazy Town or that Alyssa Milano teen workout video? At least in Milano's I wasn't forced to stare at Robbie Rotten's penis the whole time. You can seriously see it through his plastic pants, and then you can't unsee it.
1:13: Xavieon. Sounds like a lightbulb made of spring water.
1:15: Airabella...Dennisha...Melisa...I literally have no idea how to spell common names anymore. I keep wondering why my mom didn't end my name in "ph." Didn't she love me? Crap, I forgot to call her. Damn you, names.
1:22: By the tick-filled pelt of Peter Rabbit, Cayn. Cayn. I have been obsessed with vampire fiction for two decades and even the most batty of goths never hung Cayn on a fictional character, let alone someone that had to stand in line at the DMV.
1:23: Speaking of goth and vampires...Dru! From Houston! That makes me happy. Oh look, another Houstonian...Zina. Great. Just great.
1:30: At this point my wife had emerged from the tub and demanded we leave the house. Probably for the best. The last name I saw was Kelan, and I had begun chanting it to myself like a Buddhist mantra in order to summon what I can only assume is a deity in charge of some sort of organic vegetable.
1: 35: On the way to lunch, I call my mom and tell her how much I appreciate the name Jef. Love you, mom. Happy Mother's Day.
Making children's television into something horrible is kind of my beat. Check out the 4 Horrifying Interpretations of Children's Shows and the 4 Most Inappropriate Relationships in Children's Television.
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