Names are important.
(I know, I'm so deep. How do you stand it?)
Still, you have to admit, they are. And I'm not even talking about people names, which I'll get to in a moment. I'm talking about paint names. We're getting ready to paint the baby's room, and we know we want it to be green. What shade of green? Well, there's "apple blossom" (cute!). There's "lily pad" (CUTE!!). And then there's "dill weed."
Someone at Benjamin Moore does not want anyone to paint their house "dill weed." They could have called it "old sage" or "African Kermit," but no. Dill weed. And I'm sure that's not the worst paint name out there. If I were the CEO of Benjamin Moore, I would make a nice dark brown and call it BM (for the company's initials, obviously).
I am shallow, so I choose a great many things based on the name. Like nail polish ("Strawberry Margarita," after my favorite summer beverage), Jamba Juice (whatever makes me sound the least like a moron, i.e. no "Mango-a-go-go"), primary care physicians (but seriously, how else are you supposed to pick?). I cannot in good conscience bring my son into a room painted the color "dill weed." The color should be adorable-sounding, or, at the very least, stately.
In terms of the kid's name, Jeff and I only have one hard and fast rule: he can't share a name with anyone either of us has slept with (sorry, Jon Hamm!). We probably could come up with stricter parameters (no hyphenated first names ending in -Bob; no Muppets; no serial killers; no corporate sponsorship*), but not associating our child with sex (at least, other than the direct role it played in his conception) is all we can muster the energy to care about.
*Dorito Zorabedian does sound pleasantly ethnic, though. I bet he'd play in the World Cup.
Well, that and the relative cuteness of the random name assigned to the color of a paint swatch by a bored BM intern, obviously. Priorities, we rock at them.
Bonus Fun Fact: According to What to Expect, this week our unborn son's balls are descending from his abdomen into his scrotum, a trip that the book says "can take up to three days." I would like to officially claim the movie rights to that treacherous journey. I'm thinking Jake Gyllenhaal and Scott Caan would make great testicles.