The Name Blame Game

Dear Mini Clenney,

We pledge to you today, on the fifteenth week of your fetal development, that we will refrain from bestowing a stupid name upon you while you are too young and helpless to protest.  Listed herein are the rules by which we agree to abide in order to fulfill this agreement:

1.  Your name will very likely be something fairly traditional.  When you grow out of your inevitable "I go by Slash Veruca Cobain" phase and decide it's time for college, you'll be thankful that you look so well-adjusted on paper. (Takes one to know one. - Love, mom.) 

2.  We promise not to name you after any random inanimate object (ex: Apple, Crackerjack, Banjo, Fiddlefern, etc.).

3.  Your name will not contain any consonants that do not belong there.  ("Yeah, that's right... Bob with an X.  The normal spellins.")

4.  Your name will be gender-specific.  Girl-Robert is not happening.  Neither is Boy-Britney.  That's just handing the kids on the playground a license to torture you.  We might as well pull your underwear over your head ourselves.

5.  Your name will not rhyme or sound like something vaguely irreverent.  (ex: Bennie Clenney, Penny Clenney, Shi'tia, Nastia, Gaylord: no, no, NO.)

We hereby declare these decisions to be true and fair, and free of the influence of pop culture, online baby name generators, and pregnancy hormone fluctuations.

Sincerely,
Your loving parents

And now, for the sake of all those who missed his/her flash-in-the-pan moment of glory on Facebook back in early June, here is Mini Clenney's first onscreen moment.

And here, courtesy of Pawpaw Joe, is Mini appearing as Teddy Graham.  Next curtain, Hamlet.  Forsooth!

Mmmmmmm.....ham.  You shouldn't have said anything about crackers or processed meat in front of mommy. 

Now you've done it. 

Later, little tater!