It’s Not a Dinosaur!

We’re now at week 24 in our pregnancy, and it’s at this time you can choose to get a gender scan. Mainly to see if it’s going to be boy or girl names you’re going to spend the next few months arguing over, whether or not you’re going to dress them in blues or pinks, Or just bury your hopes and dreams under the crushing glare of your good lady wife whilst she dresses your spawn in a range of locally sourced, gluten free, environmentally friendly hemp based tattie sacks that are not only completely gender-neutral, but also cost three times the price for the privilege.

We packed the Destroyer, his grandma and ourselves into The Roobs’ tiny, empty biscuit wrapper filled car and drove into the city for our appointment with a very nice lady armed with a fistful of industrial blue lube, and a scanning device that wouldn’t have looked out of place if it was in the hands of Jodie Whittaker as she ran around the TARDIS console. As we took our seats in the darkened room and the nice lady in the white coat slapped a hefty mitt full of gloop onto the Roobs’ belly, our eyes were glued to the monitor as the image started rolling around on the screen.

“So Angus, what do you think mummy is going to have then?” Asked the very friendly scanner lady, “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?”. The Destroyer paused for a second while the cogs spun uselessly in his massive head, before his face lit up with a seeming revelation.

“Well, I think it’s going to be a dinosaur.” Now that he’d schooled us all in procreative science, the little genius sat back and went back to hooking out nose goblins with a stubby finger.

“Uh, well. It’s not going to be a dinosaur sadly, but we do know what it’s going to be! Look, can you see here?” She pointed at some blob of wiggling grey on the screen, that to me looked nothing like a baby and more like the neglected contents of an old bricklayers cement mixer.  “You can clearly see that you’re going to have a little sister!”

Girl? or someone has kicked the crap out of a Furby.

“Roobs, Grandma and I were of course delighted, The Destroyer sadly a little less so until we told him that he’d be a very important big brother, and that his job would include such things as wrecking the house and blaming a sibling, teaching them how to body splash mummy’s head at 4am like a breaching whale and how many kicks to their dad’s peeing place it’ll take before he’s crying like a newborn. This seemed to calm him down, but it was shortly after when Grandma took him into a nearby toy shop and bought him a wicked looking pirate sword where he really lit up. Especially when, as we walked back to the car, he jammed the point of the sword accidently into the crotch of some poor lad who was walking past us with his headphones in.

It’s hard to apologise to a man with a pirate-sword poked penis when he’s got Metallica shouting at him through some tiny speakers.

So here’s where the real fun starts; naming a new baby. It turns out that The Roobs has some ‘wonderful’ New Age ideas for names, many of which would see a kid receive a sound thrashing in any playground around the country because they sound like some kind of pretentiously garnished summer fruit. And my names seemingly suck too, because I like more traditional names that don’t have fifty five syllables and a hyphen. Here’s some examples of names I threw forward for discussion, see what you think.

  • Orlaigh: I did like this initially, but now I think I agree with Roobs that we have to dismiss it. It’s one of those names that nobody will ever be able to spell correctly, and there’s always someone who tries to say the name like how it’s written down, which ends up in a lot of throat clearing sounds at the end. The last thing you want is your kid to end up covered in spittle from over pronunciating pensioners.
  • Storm: I lied and said that I saw a presenter on Cbeebies with the name and she seemed pretty cool, which she did, but that wasn’t strictly the truth. Let’s face it, who doesn’t want one of their kids to be named over a mutant superhero and occasional leader of the X-Men? And judging by The Destroyer and his mother, there’s no shortage of wind powers already on show around this place..
  • She-Ra Pantera Xena Bison Taylor: Try and tell me you don’t like a midden of powerful middle names and I’ll call you a goddamn liar. Seriously, Who’s messing with She-Ra Pantera Xena Bison when she rocks up to nursery in her Dinosaur onesie and X-Men backpack?

What do you folk think? I need suggestions, and as we’ve learned from such things as the Brexit referendum it’s always wise to throw it open to public opinion!

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