You named your baby what?


Over the weekend, not one, but
two celebrities welcomed wee packages of joy into their lives. No, not
that kind of wee package of joy, Lindsay Lohan. Geez, I thought
you got that straightened out. Still, as word got out that Nicole
and Christina Aguilera

had given birth, I braced for the inevitable. The inevitable being whatever
wacky, weird thing they decided to name their kids. Like, say, Tundra
or Unicorn or Suri.

Luckily, both Richie and Aguilera decided to go relatively restrained,
with Harlow Winter Kate Madden (for Nicole’s little girl) and Max
Liron Bratman (for Christina’s little boy).

But other celebrities have
been considerably less, shall we say, discreet when naming their offspring.
Pilot Inspektor? Fifi Trixibelle? Sage Moonblood? Moxie Crimefighter?
(The bad parents being, respectively, Jason Lee, Bob Geldof,
Sylvester Stallone
and Penn Jillette.) Dudes, do you not love
your children?

With so many celebrities pregnant
and expecting babies this year (among them Halle Berry, Jessica
, Cate Blanchett, Nicole Kidman, Lily Allen
and Jamie Lynn Spears — OK, so maybe I’m being liberal with
the term celebrity), I’d like to enter a public plea. Please,
for the love of your offspring not getting wedgies on the playground,
stop naming your children insane things. It’s too late for Audio Science
Clayton (actress Shannyn Sossamon’s boy). But maybe we can
spare future generations the teasing and the taunting.

Now, I don’t mind unusual
or different names, per se. Peter Sarsgaard
and Maggie Gyllenhaal named their daughter Ramona, and I totally
dig that, in part because I totally dug those books. Jennifer Garner
and Ben Affleck have the cutest little Violet. And I don’t
even really mind Gwyneth Paltrow
and her adorable Apple. OK, now I’m lying. That last one bugs me.
Children are not fruit. Sometimes fruity, sure, but never part of the
food pyramid.

Look, celebrities, I wish you
all happy, healthy bouncing bundles of joy in the coming year. Just, for heaven’s sake, please don’t name your children something that sounds like you’ve lost a particularly hilarious, drunken game of Mad Libs.

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