Free time. As in, I have too much of it.

Through a very detailed, regimented morning routine on the internet, which consisted mostly clicking on whatever link looked interesting, I found myself looking at the social security administrations website of baby names.  Out of curiosity, I figured I'd take a gander at where the Monkey fell into play for the year she was born.

915 out of a thousand.

Nine hundred and fifteenth...

Now, obviously when you name your kid you go with something interesting and unique in your little mind.  But to dump my kids name at almost the end of the list?  So basically it's me and that mother in Boognockistonia that speaks in clicks and whistles.  Awesome.  You know what was higher on the list than the Monkey's name?





What the french toast, people.  My kid does not have an extraordinarily unique name.  To know that there were more girls born in the United States of freaking America named *MONSERRAT* than the Monkey's name....well....I'm not really sure how that makes me feel.  Also?  Apparently the year she was born was also the last year anyone wanted to name their kid that.

No matter what I do, I guess I will always be the black sheep.  And now I've passed that onto my kid.  Awesome.

Ximena?  REALLY?


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