It was a quiet night. Bob was reading The Illiad, while Francesca cradled her baby bump and stared off into space.
"Are you alright, dear?" Bob asked. Francesca snapped out of her trance-like state and explained that she had been trying to figure out what to name their baby.
"We'll need to choose very carefully," said Bob. "One can never be completely free of a bad name." Like 'Sideshow'. He went back to his book, and Francesca stared at it for a moment.
"Homer?" she suggested.
Bob lowered the book, looking like he'd swallowed sour milk. "Definitely not."
Francesca then suggested that if they had a boy, he should be named after his paternal grandfather, as that was traditional for a firstborn son in Italy.
"I'd rather not," said Bob, who never thought about his parents or brother if he could help it.
Francesca noticed how much he tensed up, and choose not to ask questions. They decided that their baby would be named after one of Francesca's parents.
So, that was how Gino got his name. From the moment he was born, he'd proved to have quite the lungs, but when he'd fallen asleep at last, his parents were able to properly admire him.
"He's so beautiful," Francesca said in a tired whisper, stroking the little tufts of red hair on her baby's head.
"Yes," said Bob softly, "but he appears to have inherited my hideous hair."
"Oh, Roberto!" Francesca was smiling affectionately. "You have beautiful hair."
Bob smirked. "My childhood classmates would beg to differ. As a little boy, I was often called 'Mop Head' or 'Palm Tree Head'. In retrospect, they were rather unimaginative nicknames, but they stung nonetheless. I still feel hurt by them, even now." Bob held back a groan, thinking about how being greeted with "AAH! SIDESHOW BOB!" still made him sick with barely suppressed rage.
"Amore, you worry too much." Francesca reached out to touch his arm, and Bob decided to just enjoy this quiet little moment before the baby inevitably started crying again.