You know the old saying, "pets are for life not just for Christmas"? Well, it's the same with names. Give your kid a good name and you've given them a great start in life. Give ‘em a shocker and you've just saddled them with a burden they'll never forgive you for (like that former Labor politician, Richard Face - though to be honest I only ever knew him as Dick).

So when I heard Nicole and Keith had named their baby, Sunday Roast, I was a little shocked.

This is not good, I thought.

Not good at all.

That poor kid is going to really cop it at a school.

Thank god a mate set me straight. "Not Sunday Roast but Sunday Rose, you dimwit".

And the general agreement is that it's quite sweet. Rose in particular I like.

But then if I was at school I'd bet she'd still be called Sunday Roast at some stage. That's the thing with names, someone will always find a way to carve you up.

(And what is it about celebrities naming their children after food? Why Apple? Why not Kumquat?)

There's a theory that a strong name can influence, for the better, the person you become and the life you get. Another theory has it that a person with a good, strong name will nearly always get the job over someone with equal qualifications but who begins his sell with, "Hi, my name's Wally ... Wally Weasel".

It's why, I suspect, so many boys are getting ‘Jack' for their first name these days. Jack sounds strong. In fact Jack Strong would be a great name. "Jack Strong, Private Investigator". "Jack Strong storms home to Olympic gold". "President Jack Strong today declared the war in Iraq was over."

Yeah it's good.

Now imagine if that kid, Jack Strong, had been given the moniker Tristram instead. No way would he have won Olympic gold or been elected President or have any chance of being a private dick (unless, that is, he worked the mean streets on behalf of particularly effete clients, "Hello, Tristram Strong's detective agency, specialising in lost lisps. How can we help you?).

See my point.

Would Adolf Hitler have been anywhere near as maniacally successful if his first name had been, say, Trent?

I don't think so.

Naturally I've given considered thought to the names I'll give my children if I am so blessed (I'm counting on two boys and a girl). For the boys my long time favourites are Satan and Lucifer. How much fun could you have with that!

"Satan, if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, LEAVE LUCIFER ALONE."

And for my beautiful daughter my particular fancy is, Virgin Mary Stardust Magenta. Trips off the tongue don't you think? And such a wonderful ambiguity about it.

Not surprisingly I've been given no vote in the matter.
(To be honest I'm also a little worried about how I'll handle the conversation the day my daughter comes home and says, "Dad can you just call me Mary from now on".)

Regardless, what I would never do, and this seems to be a particular favourite for parents naming daughters, is corrupt existing names with a boggling array of extra consonants like Sharrann or Karryyn or Sherryll-Lea or Kyylie or Koahh and the likke. It's just wrongg.

Shakespeare wrote, "a rose by any other name is just as sweet," but I guarantee you Valentine's Day just wouldn't be the same if love struck men started the date with a bouquet of a dozen red Gertrudes.

"Oh darling, Gertrudes! How lovely".

Nah, it just doesn't work.

So while Sunday Rose is sweet, Sunday Urban reminds me just a little of one of those easy listening CDs you play to impress dinner guests.

Like I said, names are for life, not just for Christmas.

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Photo Gallery: Nicole and Keith's family scrapbook