One of the funny gag gifts a girlfriend gave us, once we officially announced our pregnancy, was a pocket book called “Seriously Bad Baby Names”. We had already chosen ‘Ivan’ for the name of our son-to-be (Russian for ‘John’) and after thumbing through the book we noted that our chosen name was listed as one of the names to avoid:
“Ivan’s a good name if you happen to be a drug dealer who lives in Warsaw. If that’s your name then it makes sense why you would want to burn down an apartment building. Some names are aromatic, bringing with them a flood of memories, and Ivan is one of those names, its very utterance conjuring up all manner of mayhem and panicky fright. This is a good name for your son if you can’t afford a gun or a pit bull.”
Thanks, Jennifer Elliott, for the amusing guide book.
Look at this face; he is undoubtedly an Ivan.
“Ivan’s a good name if you happen to be a drug dealer who lives in Warsaw. If that’s your name then it makes sense why you would want to burn down an apartment building. Some names are aromatic, bringing with them a flood of memories, and Ivan is one of those names, its very utterance conjuring up all manner of mayhem and panicky fright. This is a good name for your son if you can’t afford a gun or a pit bull.”
Thanks, Jennifer Elliott, for the amusing guide book.
Look at this face; he is undoubtedly an Ivan.
Hello Fentons 3, just curious what made you choose the Russian version of John as Ivan's name. When you chose it, did you think he'd be rushing (get it? ha ha!) to make his entrance into the world? Lots of love, Spotswoods 3
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