Now, I’m not one to be judgmental, but…
Actually that’s a complete lie. I’m massively judgmental. I’ve written about my feelings about X-Factor fans, and you don’t want to know what I said this week when I noticed once of our neighbours has treated himself to a personalised number plate that says, “L-OVER”. But it certainly wasn’t, “Look at that! How fun.”
The secret to being judgmental and remaining a good person (which I am, considering I’m an Evil Overlord) is to ensure that your judgments don’t affect the way you treat people. So you can be perfectly friendly and respectful to someone all the while wondering how it is they manage to see well enough to tie their shoelaces in the morning through all those layers of mascara.
Nowhere am I more judgmental than when it comes to children’s names. This weekend, I was in a grocery store when I overheard a Mum shouting at her child. Who was called… Boden.
An actual adult named her actual child after a clothing store. Well, I hope it was the clothing store, and not the cafetiere. Although, actually, who knows? Maybe she just really loves glass teapots.
It’s almost as bad as the kid called Chilli, in the Beaver group I used to run (it was a boy, if you’re wondering).
I can’t help being judgmental when it comes to people who give their children QUIRKY names, presumably in a vain attempt to persuade the rest of us that they are somehow more fun, more creative or posher than us boring people who name our children after things you don’t find on the shelves at Spar.
I sometimes wonder if those kids will end up doing what I did the summer I was nine years old, when I told everyone I met that my name was Steve. Worked BRILLIANTLY. Although, I’d have got away with it for longer had my breasts not come in the next year.
What do you think – are quirky names a fun way to show individuality? Or will you join me at the judgmental jamboree and share your own worst overheard name?