And I just had to cringe.
Sheesh, you’d think a company that’s been in business since the Great Depression would have selected a cooler name than “Little Debbie,” wouldn’t you?
But according to their website, the McKee family named their snacks “Little Debbie” after their granddaughter.
I wonder if she looked like the fresh-faced, curly-haired lass on their logo?
Being a “Debbie” has become more and more
miserable intolerable challenging for me.
Besides the fact that everybody in my high school was a Debbie (not really, but it sure seemed that way), I never felt like a Debbie.
“Debbie” is supposed to be popular. Preferably dark-haired. A cheerleader. Someone who stands out in a crowd because of her bubbly personality. And cuteness.
Oh, and did I mention popular?
I can’t even claim a resemblance to the Little Debbie logo girl.
At a recent visitation necessitated by the death of one of my neighbors, I chanced upon someone I’d gone to high school with.
Way Back Then.
I knew she recognized me, but when she couldn’t immediately call me by name, she guessed, “Debbie?”
Of course she was right. Why, I’d say she had a 50-50 chance of being right.
There were so many Debbies that we all went by our last names.
All through school.
And no wonder. If you were born during the period from the 1940s through the 1980s, give or take, your name just might be “Debbie,” too.
Even my last name is common. At one point, there were FOUR of us (spelled the exact same way) in my small town alone!
In their defense, my folks weren’t trying to be copycats. They’d planned for a boy and hadn’t picked out a girl’s name.
Perhaps I ought to be grateful I’m “Debbie” rather than “David.”
Then again, the feminine form of David — “Davida” — is rather pretty. And certainly more unique.
It’s hard to stand out when you meet yourself coming and going. Maybe now you can see why I’m choosing a pen name for my writing?