I feel sorry for modern
kids. Or should I say kydz? Today’s
parents either don’t know how to spell, or they’re trying to be cute.
Not
long ago, David was always D-A-V-I-D. Little Davey didn’t need to spell his
name to the librarian, his Sunday school teacher, or the softball coach. Now he
totes flashcards and wears a name tag day and night. It might be Dayvid,
Davidde, or Daivihd. Same with a perfectly decent name like Mary. Her flashcards
could read anything from Mahree to Mayrie to Mairey.
I
cringe to think where this generation of creative spellers is leading us. Imagine
a family singing together on a road trip. Sister starts, “There was a farmer
had a dog and Bingo was his name-o, B-I-N-G-O...”
Brother
interrupts, “That’s not right. Kevin has a dog named Bingo and they spell it
B-E-E-N-G-O-U-G-H.” Family bonding takes a huge step backwards.
Or
what about Sunday school songs? The leader steps to the podium and charges
into, “The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book for me…” when a redheaded girl in the
front row corrects him.
“We
don’t spell it that way anymore,” she says. “We use the new spelling:
B-Y-E-B-I-L-L.” He stumbles off the stage, his hopes for a shining career as a
song leader dashed.
I
know, I know. Embrace progress, move forward, don’t dwell on the past, change
is good, etc. I agree. But please don’t tell me I’m going to turn on the T.V.
one day and hear “M-I-K-K-E-E
M-O-W-H-S!”
Do you have an unusual name? How about your kids?
The above story is a chapter from my second book published by Elk Lake Publishing,
