His mother is a beautiful young lady who speaks Spanish. His father is a big, good ole Southern Boy. They are expecting their first child together – a son. I am the grandmother who speaks a little Spanglish and a whole lot of ‘ain’t that funny’.

The other day, “MTB” (Mamma to be) came by my office and wanted to look on the computer at baby names. Her idea is to have one of the names Spanish and one English. Me, being the “PGTB’ (Proud Grandma To Be) was thrilled to be a part of this important event. Off we went, into the land of the internet to search for ‘TPN’ (the perfect name) for ‘baby boy’.

MTB had a web site she wanted to visit, so of course, we went there first. Page after page of alphabetically listed names zoomed by our eyes. Not one name make us take a deep breath, sigh with wonder at the perfect name, or even stop long enough to ponder the implications or meanings supplied by the website designer. This was, of course, a site that listed Spanish names, but the MTB was more confused than I was. She said time after time that the names listed for boys were female names. It had her baffled so we quickly moved to something I knew – google.

After typing in the requisite search terms, ‘baby name’, we landed on a site that listed thousands of names from every country in the world. Along with the pronunciation (thank God for that feature), we were supplied with the origin of the name and the meaning. Away we went.

From A-V we had quite a few laughs and even chose a name or two for possible future use. And then we found ourselves in the Land of ‘W’ Names. The baby had been behaving quite well until the laughter began. I’m not sure if he was protesting the names we spoke, or if he was enjoying the fune alongside his mother and grandmother as we found food to fuel the hysteria. During our time in the Land of ‘W’ Names, his father called on the cell phone. MTB started sharing a couple of the possibilites from the Land of ‘W’ Names with the daddy.

“We’ve been looking at names for our son. What do you think about Wapaheo (pronounced Wap-uh-hey-O. Origin – Native American. Meaning – How Did He Kill).”

The reply from Daddy was immediate, “What the hell?”

“No. Whapaheo.”

“That’s what I said. What the hell. You ain’t naming my son What the hell.”

MTB did really well in hiding her laughter. I, on the other hand was dying and falling out of my chair as each second she was on the phone brought more laughter.

“What about Wozhupiwi?” (Prounounced Wuz-uh-pee-wee. Origin – Native American. Meaning – From the Corner.)



It just so happens that Daddy has an uncle named PeeWee, which is quite common in the South. To him the name sounded like “What’s Up PeeWee”?

“Are you smoking crack?”

By this time, MTB and PGTB are rolling with laughter. Baby can’t or won’t stop kicking MTB and Daddy thinks we have totally lost our minds. “I’ll be right there,” he declares. You guys are crazy and definitely need some help.

They still haven’t decided on a name for grandson to be, but we have eliminated 2 great possibilities. I think I’ll call the new grandbaby Wapaheo, just for. What the hell. Why waste a perfectly good name?

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Herchel Newman a.k.a. Herm

    Wanda, this is so funny. I have 3 children. My wife said, “I’ll carry them; you name them.” Naming is serious business and each of them wanted to know about their names. They appreciate the stories and their names. So glad they weren’t named WTH. This is just too funny. The kid will love this story one day.

    Don’t stop.

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