The daughter: "Did you ever know anyone named Bob?"
I frown at her over my forkful of salad: "I think half the boys I grew up with were named Bob."
The daughter: "People always say that..."
Me: "Well, there was Bob L., who I knew from first grade all through high school, and Bob D. and Bob, my friend AR's boyfriend, as well as Bob in our neighborhood."
The daughter, meditatively: "Oh...yeah. Well, what about Nancy? Was anyone named Nancy?"
Me: "Two girls in my grade school, one in high school. Look, why are you asking me this?"
The daughter: "What were other popular names?
Me: "Mmm. Mike, Scott, Rick, Andy. I knew tons of Andys. Chris..."
The daughter: "What about girls names?"
Me: "Susan or Suzanne. Mary. Liz. Debbie. Laura."
The daughter: "What do you think is the most popular name now?"
Me: "I don't know. Some of your friends have fairly...unusual... names."
The daughter: "M. said she was named after a magazine."
Me: "She...what? The magazine?"
The daughter: "Maybe she was kidding."
Me: "She's lucky she wasn't named 'Ladies Home Journal.' 'Redbook.' 'Cosmopolitan.'"
The daughter: "Mommy! Stop. Why did you give me my name?"
Ah. The daughter is known to be disturbed by the very old-fashioned quality of her name. Even more that it is impossible to obtain personalized souvenirs with her name on them.
Me: "You know it's a family name. We liked it."
The daughter, sighing: "I know."
Me: "Well, you can always change it."
She shoots me a look and replies sternly, "Mommy."
And she returns to her chicken sandwich without missing a beat.
Go listen to some good music: "Fame" from the album Best of Bowie by David Bowie. Someday, she will appreciate that her name is uncommon.