My Son, Svatopluk

I was reading American Baby magazine last night (hey, it's free and sometimes it has good articles. . . and it was the only thing left in the bathroom). I can't remember which article I was reading when I read the words "My son, Svatopluk . . .". I put the magazine down. I figured I was too tired to read. Surely I had misread. But I couldn't get the thought of "Svatopluk" out of my head. After washing up, I cautiously opened the magazine again.

It was still there. "My son, Svatopluk. . .". Now, I am not naive in the world of unique names. I taught in a . . .um. . financially challenged neighborhood for eight years. I have known students named Dejiab (pronouced Daysha), Marcia (pronounced Mar-see-a), Keng Kong (I lived in the mid-west, it sounded the same as the movie character here), Power, Precious and Quindelliam.

But Svatopluk? I continued reading. It was really just a short quote from a woman in Oregon whose Czech husband used songs to calm their son down. Maybe Svatopluk is a common name in the Czech Republic. Maybe it's their version of Aidan or something. But this child is not going to grow up in the Czech Republic, he's going to grow up in Oregon. And while kids today are much more easygoing about non-traditional names then kids were in my generation, I can't believe that Svatopluk isn't going to raise any comments.

Why would you do that to your child? I resented my mother calling me Jennifer, as there were at least 3 of us in every class I was ever in. I'm going to call her and apologize for complaining as soon as I finish this blog.

What's the worst name you've ever heard? I never used to be able to answer that question with just one name. But now I can. Svatopluk. Anyone agree?