I’m sitting around the coffeeshop the other day trying to work through the NYT crossword puzzle and can’t help but hear a mom calling after her small boy. “Ember, get back here Ember. Let’s go outside.” Ember, are we serious? What in the world is going on with these kid’s names. I’m all for names a bit more fanciful than Jack or Jill, but Ember…that’s where we’re landing? He’s the small bit of ash flying away from your campfire? Sadly, I couldn’t think of any rude childhood taunts to mull about in my head. Oh, I’m sure that his elementary school classmates will take care of that for me.

I suppose I should get over hearing names that typically resemble names these days. We live in a world filled with parent’s who are piling the weight of their own expectations on their children. And what better start to being distinguished than being named after something that comes from a campfire.