You Just Knew Someone Would Do It

From The Mirror (UK):
Horror film fan Suzanne Cooper yesterday named her baby Damien after the devil child in the The Omen, who was also born on June 6.

Suzanne went one better than the movie by hitting the full Number of the Beast with the date - 6/6/06.

Special needs teacher Suzanne, 36, was also induced for six days before Damien arrived at 6.59am, tipping the scales at a spine-chilling 6lb 6oz.

She said: "We are overjoyed about the baby. The Omen is one of our favourite films and that's why I was keeping my legs crossed for a birth on the 6th.

"It does seem a bit weird I suppose, but he's a perfect baby - nothing at all like Damien in The Omen."

Dad Michael rushed Suzanne to hospital in Bristol last Wednesday afternoon after she began suffering back pains.

The baby was due on Saturday and doctors decided to induce her straight away, but little Damien refused to arrive until yesterday.

Suzanne went into labour in the early hours and Damien was born shortly after 6am. Electrical engineer Mike said: "It was a devil of a birth - a bit of a horror show. Once she went into labour it was straightforward, but six days in hospital is a long time to wait.

"Suzanne and I love watching horror films and we were both keeping our fingers crossed that he would be born yesterday.

"It took a fair bit of persuasion for Suzanne to let us call him Damien but it seems fitting considering the date." [...]

I trust I’ll be forgiven for feeling really sorry for this kid. “Gee, honey, we were so excited about your birth that we named you after the Antichrist.” I only hope he doesn’t see it as something he needs to live up to.

I don’t know these people, so I don’t want to damn them by association - they may just be a bit daft. However, the whole thing reminds me of what my wife refers to as “Children as possessions syndrome.” Not that kind of possession, please G~d! But possessions as in “objects which belong to me and which I use to define myself.”

Some years ago, when we were looking to buy a house, we saw lots of lovely new homes that all shared a common set of features. First, they all had palatial master bedroom suites, usually with Jacuzzi tubs and all closets that were larger than some apartments I’ve lived in. Second, the other bedrooms were teeny, frequently barely having room for a bed and a desk – the sort of thing that would cause monks to start a riot for better living conditions. The whole thing shouted “We’ll live like kings, and the kids – we’ll, they’ll be fine.”

I think the same attitude defines a lot of what kids put up with these days. They are shuffled from activity to activity so mom and dad can check off the appropriate box on the list that gives them bragging rights.

Kid: “I want to go play catch with the guys, mom.”

Mother (Spoken): “Sorry, son, I signed you up for the soccer league / gymnastics / polo lessons / chess tournament. It will help you increase your coordination / improve your social skills / develop critical thinking / help you meet people”

Mother (Unspoken): “Listen up, kid - I’ve been promoted to partner at Leonard, Skynard, and Sludge; I’ve managed to attract a rich, good-looking husband; I have a pedigreed Shih-tzu, a custom home on the lake, and a new BMW. It’s time for me to have the family thing now; and you, my son, have certain assignments that you need to complete so I can look good.”

Growing up as your parents’ status symbol must be horrid – no wonder so many of them cut themselves.