Why I Won't Name My Son "Marlon"

Once upon a time over 10 years ago, there was a group of high-school students sitting in their class working on a group activity.  Since they were over-achievers, they had finished the assignment and began to chat and the topic fell on future plans.  Basically, the - "what do you want to be when you grow up" topic. 

Marlon, the only guy at the table, whose sexual preference was questionable but never discriminated, quickly said, "I'm going to be an obstetrician."  All the other girls were surprised and intrigued that a guy would want to be an obstetrician.  He explained that he loved babies and wanted take part in the joy of birth.  With that statement, he won over the adoration of the girls at the table.

But, after saying such a commendable comment, he proceeded to wipe away all his good deeds with the following exercise:  He was somehow led to believe that his opinion on motherhood suddenly mattered and began to critique each woman on whether or not she would be a "good" mom.  He singled out the rocker girl with blue highlights in her hair.  She had a steady rocker boyfriend that no one denied because she had no problem with PDA as they basically ate each other for lunch every day in the courtyard on their favorite bench.  Slut... and yet no one bared her any malice because she was actually very nice.

"Suzy" Marlon said.  "I think you would be a great mom."

'Yeah, sure,' Shirley - the other, much more reserved girl at the table who hadn't broken out of her very hard shell yet, thought. 'That's because she'll probably be pregnant in a year.'

Then Marlon turned to Shirley and proceeded to single her out.  "Shirley - I don't think you would be a good mom.........."

And that was it.  No reason provided.  It was just his pure gut talking, and he moved on to the next victim girl.  Shirley was too deep in thought to listen if anyone else got a bad rating according to this non-certified, almost charlatan source.  She was mad; she was fuming.  Up to this point, Marlon was too nice to hate.  He was like a cuddly panda bear that everyone wanted to hug, but suddenly the panda had turned into a grizzly in disguise.

Shirley never said anything in response because she was too reserved for that, but deep inside she still felt good for three reasons:

1. Knowing that she WAS going to be a great mom one day, 
2. Knowing she'd give Marlon a bad review online as an obstetrician if she ever happened upon him again. 
3. Knowing she wasn't a slut and that sluttiness was NOT a prerequisite to being a good mom.

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And that's why no matter what my husband says right now, I am NOT naming my son "Marlon".  There's no way I'm signing those papers.  Find a new name.   And screw you, Marlon.  I'm entirely out of my shell now and we can have a nice chat if you'd like.  Oh - and bring Suzy and her 10 children along.

This would've been so much easier if I was having my fabled girl, Mia.  Hmmmm, how about Mio for a boy name?  LOL.  Nah...