So, I was reminded today of a joke I heard once. A little girl who wandering by herself through the cosmetics department at the mall. She kept pointing to a large display and say, “That’s my name, that’s my name, that’s my name.” None of the department store associates could understand what she was doing and it became obvious to them that she had been separate from her mother. One associate went up to the girl to ask her if she was lost and what her name was. Her mother rushes over from another counter and says, “Clinque! Get over here!”

And what could have made me think of that joke? I was putting in my study time, going over the anatomy of the female reproductive system and thought, “How messed up would it be if your name was Labia?” That got me to laughing.

Then I got to thinking about this game DH,my brother-in-law (BIL), and our parents played one night called, “What’s the Worst Name You Ever Heard?”. We all know about the mom who named her kid Female thinking that is was pronounced Fe-mah-lay and about the mom with the twins named Lemonjello and Organejello (uh, that would be Lemon Jell-O and Orange Jell-O).

What about the parents that insist of doing a mash up of there names? Sometimes it works, but sometimes you get some doozies! You know, Dad is Wade, Mom is Maxine, so the daughter is . . . .Wadine?

DH had the pleasure of meeting a friend of a colleague whose name was (or actually still is) Lasagna. Seriously. He talked to her over the phone first and when she said Lasagna, he was certain he had misheard her. He offered up LaTanya and LaJuana but she stopped him and said, “No. Lasagna. Like the food. ” Wow. A friend of ours had a niece whose name was Jodeci, yes like the R&B group. The friend went on to say that the mom named the baby based on the group that to which the child was conceived. Two words on that one: Over – Share. We went around the table laughing until we cried until my BIL said a friend of his worked in a school where there were a set of siblings whose names were (drumroll, please) YaRoyalty, YaHighness and YaMajesty.

SHUT. THE. HELL. UP

Seriously. Can you imagine? You’re in class and the PA (that’s the public address for you youngin’s) comes on telling YaRoyalty to come to the office. Even worse, pretend you’re a substitute teacher taking roll and YaMajesty is in your class. All I can think of is what do you say when that child raises his or her hand? Yes, YaMajesty? Should I curtsey, too?

So, I’m putting my foot down in protest of these cracked-out names. Never should there be a Labia running around, or pretty much any child named after a body part. VaGina is still vagina, I don’t care what you say. Be proud of your country, and express your political affiliation, but if you name your child Obamaisha. . .well, all I’m going to say is — No, You Can’t. No names found in an ABC store — yes, I’m talking to you who is considering naming your twins Chardonnay and Tanqueray. When I was in college one of the RAs did this presentation about STDs and how to keep ourselves safe. The brochure she handed out was called “Chlamydia is not a flower” — yeah, it’s not a first name either.