While shopping with my mom at It was a seahorse, and its belly lit up, and it played lullabies and made little ocean sounds. Totally adorable.the other day, I came across the C-U-T-E-S-T toy and absolutely could not resist.
I’m really in love with this thing. It tickles the crap out of me and I don’t know why. I don’t feel any sort of affection for her other toys. Something about the sweet little face on this thing warms the cockles of my cold, frozen heart. Daniel thinks it’s pretty rad too. He keeps calling it a glow worm though. To those folks who were not either a child, or a parent in the 80’s, this is a glow worm:
My dad swears up and down that he found my old glow worm in the attic. I hope he’s not just teasing me. How cool would it be for May to have a vintage glow worm?!
Well, the seahorse needed a name. My instinct was to call it Sammi the Seahorse, but that made me think of Sammi from The Jersey Shore (although it’s probably a fitting name since I’m sure Sammi’s absorbed enough tanning bed UV rays to glow). I couldn’t, in good conscience, put my daughter to bed with something so sweet, named after something so…wrong.
So Daniel and I brainstormed different names. He kept wanting to call her “Glenda the Glow Worm,” but seeing as how she is not a glow worm, I felt the name was totally inappropriate. We came up with:
…and chose Brenda as the winner. Why? Because grown up names are funny. You never see people with pets named Deborah. Or Judy. Or Frances. Or Helen. Or William.
So Brenda the Seahorse now resides with the Shean family. Brenda Shean. I like the sound of that.