I totally deserve what I’m getting. When my older brothers had their kids, my sister and I were certainly not subtle in our mockery. The Manhattan sibling had Mireille (oh goodness how Americans would butcher that French “r”) and Henderson Doyle (excuse me, but is your son a law firm?), while Colorado sibling had Kinley Rain (after Mt. McKinley) and Waverly Snow (would a third child have been “Sleet” or “Hail,” or which other form of precipitation?).
Now it’s my turn, and it’s a bitter pill. I’ll never forget one parent’s first reaction to our eldest’s name, Aurelia: “It’s too bad it’s such an ugly name when pronounced in the English.” And then there were the many whispers from siblings commenting that no one knew how to pronounce the name and were afraid to try (for the record, just watch this scene from Love Actually).
I just got off the phone with Evelyn Adelina’s namesake, a kind, often supportive, and inspiring woman. Her response: “Well, the two names really don’t go well together.” *face palm*
At least we make ’em relatively cute. Hopefully their characters will be strong enough to carry the tragic names we’ve chosen: