I’m starting to regret naming my newborn son “Omicron”


Photo by Taisiia Shestopal on Unsplash

I can’t help but feel that Life is just messing with me now. We’ve all gone through a lot over the past couple of years, sure. But lately I’ve gotten the distinct feeling that “Someone” up “There” is gunning for me quite specifically. Because of certain recent events, I’m starting to regret choices I’ve made, even ones I was convinced were wise and prudent. Like my decision to name my son “Omicron.” That seems, now, to have been a bad move.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “But Omicron is a proud and respected word that any person would love as a first name.” And I agree. But tell that to my wife, who was admittedly sedated when I told the nurse what baby’s name was to be. When she regained her faculties, she was actually opposed to the name altogether. But honestly, she’s been harboring resentment since our daughter Blockchain was born three years ago. I think she just wants attention.

Opinion by Scotty Whooping

I remember when the inspiration hit me. My wife was in labor, and I was trying to set up a livestream of the event on Facebook. I couldn’t get it to work, since everyone in the delivery room – including my “loving” wife – was screaming at me. (I mean, hello, there’s a BABY about to be born! Don’t you think you should be more focused on that?!) As I put my phone away, a word from a meme caught my eye: Omicron. It burned into my soul, and I decided then and there that my son would bear that name.

In my defense, since everyone was yelling at me, I didn’t get to read the whole meme. If I had, I may not have decided to use that name. So really, I’d say we all share some of the blame.

It’s not just my son’s name. though. All sorts of decisions I’ve made recently that seemed like no-brainers are biting me. Take the business I started at the beginning of 2021. I’m a health nut who loves to run, and I was inspired by the Orangetheory fitness studios to create a gym specifically tailored to help runners train. But apparently few people want to join my Critical Race Theory gym.

I can only hope that things turn out better in 2022. For what it’s worth, I think they will. I resolve to be a better father to Blockchain and Omicron, and a more attentive husband to my wife once the court order expires. Until then, it’s just me and my new puppy Epstein together to forge our future.


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