I don't care if it sounds pretty.

… okay, stop the day. Start over. Someone, please, find my ‘reboot brain’ button and give it a whack.

I just spoke to a lovely lady and registered her two children for non-credit courses this month. The kids? Are named Evian and Ocean.

I swear on the grave of my first houseplant, I am not kidding you.

Evian.

And Ocean.

Okay, sidestepping not only the painful aspect of naming children like they’re parts of a matched set, and not to mention the headdeskingly-awkward note of naming a person after a name brand object (that has its own snarky remark when you reverse the letters)… am I the only one that sees the irony in naming one child after a name brand of filtered drinking water and the other after the natural saltwater source that tends to get polluted with all the damn trashed plastic the first one requires? It’s like the Greenpeace production of Cain and Abel, for pete’s sake.

Dude, this is even more twitch-inducing than the time I processed the application for a woman named ‘Scylla’. Baby’s Named A Bad, Bad Thing does not need to suck me into its whirlpool, not today.

At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before I encounter someone named ‘Canola’.