Looks kind of like a "Gary" from here.
With anywhere from thirty seconds to four days to go before I have another baby to helicopter parent through this crazy post 9/11 world, the Littlest Wife and I have yet to pick a name for him. Actually, we have both picked a name for the child, but they are not the same name and therein, as the Bard would say, is where we have a problem, Houston. In fairness to all parties, the name I have picked is awesome and the name she has picked is crap.
Really, picking a name for a boy is a nearly impossible task, only matched by staying awake through The English Patient. I mean sure, you can name him something uncreative, like Frank (if your name is Frank, replace Frank with “Larry” for minimal offensiveness. If your name is Larry, um, stop reading things in parentheses). But with a common name, there’s thirty boys that come running every time you call for your son and they all look the same and you get in so much trouble with your wife when you bring the wrong one home. On the flipside, if you call him something exotic, like Macedonia Jones, he’ll just get made fun of in junior high. They’ll be all, “Oh, look, there’s Macedonia, I’m about to recreate the Battle of Magnesia on your ass!” and then it’s off to Swirly City.
With a girl, you can name her Faeriassia without anyone batting an eye. It’s why it would have been nice to have a girl this time around, since after one boy, we plain ran out of names. Also, now I have to worry about my sons splitting up my empire when I die, then devolving into a state of permanent warfare leading to harsh times for my former subjects, by which I mean my collection Lego Minifigs that resemble people who die in the first half of science fiction films. The Alien one is so accurate it will freak you right out of town and into the neighboring borough of Swirly City.
People keep telling me that YouTube and social media are the future, followed by a gargling sound as I turn my hose on them, so there is only one way to settle the Baby Name Debate: an online poll. To make it extra scientific, I have removed the traditional joke option. Assume I wrote in “Colonel Fancypants,” titter to yourself, then vote for one of the following:
