We’ve had some happiness this week. One of my “adopted” Honduran daughters, now married to a fine young man and expecting a baby, had an ultra sound that revealed we will be welcoming a boy in early December. I’m as proud and excited as a grandparent.
They have chosen to name their son “Ethan Jeremiah.” I like that. It is a strong, traditional name.
I think naming a child is an important responsibility. Some names give a kid a good start on life. Others can lead to a tough road ahead.
Choosing a name before a baby is even born is no easy task. I remember going through the process with my two sons. Many options were discussed over the nine month wait. In the end, we decided to go with traditional English names. Neither are “juniors”, but both have a part of my name as their middle names.
Some people choose to name their children after celebrities or the famous of the day. There are a lot of girls named Hillary, Brittany, and Hannah currently growing up in the U.S.
Many parents in the South look to the Bible as a resources for names. There are number of boys named Elijah, Jacob, and Noah headed for school one day soon.
Here in Alabama, where we’ve had multiculturalism for about three hundred years, we also have babies with more lyrical names. Names that roll off the tongue but can be hard to spell : Shamika, Loquita, Rosechetta, and Dontarius are a few that come to mind.
I am reminded of a story I heard this week about a name choice. The man who relayed the story told it as Gospel truth. He has a very serious, matter-of-fact personality–never tells jokes, so I assume it is legitimate.
Seems his wife knows a nurse who works in a hospital in a west Georgia town. The nurse took the birth certificate form to a young mother to be completed. When it was returned, she glanced at the information and did a double take. She asked the young mother if she was sure she had completed the form correctly. The mother said “yes”.
She took the form to the nurses station where she showed it to the other nurses. They decided there must be a mistake.
She returned to the room and questioned the mother again. “Are you sure you want to name your son this?”
“Yes,” the mother said.
“Are you sure you want to spell it this way?”
“Yes,” the mother said. “My baby’s name is ‘Shytheed‘.”
At least that’s the way it was pronounced. Unfortunately, it was spelled “Shithead.”
Poor lady must have learned to read with “Hooked on Phonics.”
I bet this child is going to have more problems than Johnny Cash’s Boy Named Sue.
Good luck, kid. You’re gonna need it.