My daughter and son-in-law read through hundreds of names before they both decided they loved the name they chose for their son. They had gone through the same process with their daughter.
I could have saved them hours and hours of painstaking labor had I known that all of it was for naught (I was hoping I would some day be able to use that term).
You see, despite the fact that they argued about the perfect name for their son, despite the fact that they chose what they believed to be the perfect name for their son, they call him – are you ready for this – Bubby. Yes, they call my grandson Bubby.
But wait! It gets better – because not only do they call him Bubby, they also call him Bub and Bubs.
Now let's go back two years and imagine this scenario: There they are, the two of them, my daughter and my son-in-law, laboriously going through name after name after name after name. And I come along and say, "Put the book away. I have the PERFECT name for your son – call him Bubby!"
Do you know how they would have responded? Oh, NOOOOO. Never. No way! I'm not naming my kid "Bubby!"
Well, here he is, my little "Nolan" (it's a beautiful name, isn't it), who will be two years old this June. Some day he will look his parents in they eyes and say, in a Dr. Phil kind of way (if they're still calling him Bubby), "What were you thinking?"