Bubba, Bubba, and me

While at the doctor's office, I might have witnessed the most annoying woman ever.

She was quite a large woman, who walked in with her 2 year old harnessed to her. The harness looked like a little teddy bear who apparently had a death grip on this little girl and would not let go. I learned later that this harness' name was "Buddy." Now, if I had to wear something all the time that constricted my movement I wouldn't exactly consider it my buddy.
She always called her child "Baby" and she always referred to herself as "Mama," and never speaking in the first person. This was when I knew that we were in very Southern territory. Dare I say, redneck.
But I don't mind that. I'm a Georgia man, born and raised.
However, what I do mind is people who do not shut up.
Now, with kids, you expect it. Kids like to talk, they like to ask questions, they like to make noise. That's fine, they're kids. Now, if it's a large Southern woman who cannot stop talking for more than five seconds, then it's very annoying.
"Come on baby, mama wants to sit down." "Baby, play with those blocks." "Mama needs to go shopping later." "Uh-oh, spagghettios!"
The last one was my favorite. It would have made sense if the little girl had dropped something or hurt herself. But she hadn't. Nothing went wrong, but the woman still exclaimed "Uh-oh, spagghetios," almost as if a pavlovian response. As if a decade ago, the high-ups from Spagghetios kidnapped random people and programmed them to say their slogan at random points during the day. Either that or this woman is crazy.
Her kid didn't say a word. I personally think that the woman literally took up the quota of words that could be spoken in a small space.
Then came the best part. The little girl took out a picture, and the woman said, "Who's that in the picture? That's right, that's you, Bubba, and Bubba."

Now, I think it should be pretty much a steadfast rule that there should be no circumstances where there is more than one Bubba present at a location at any given time. Not even if it's Bubba Sr and Bubba Jr. Actually, especially not. If you were named Bubba, you cannot name your child Bubba knowing what the name Bubba does. It's just one of those names that just begs for assumptions, and I think really limits your opportunities in society. Would you invest your money in a company with it's CEO named Bubba? How many people would vote Bubba for president? (Actually, don't answer that. Americans might think that it would be fun to get a beer with him, and that's obviously a great criteria for voting someone the leader of the free world).
Naming your kid Bubba is the redneck equivalent of naming your kid Jeeves. That pretty much limits them to a life as a butler or as a search engine.

In other news, I feel bad for Gary Coleman. A life of being the rep for a Cash Loan company (Cash Call!) and being ridiculed 8 times a week in Avenue Q. However, I bet he is badass as a security guard, which was his actual job for awhile (I don't know if it still is). Imagine you're trying to steal from a store, then suddenly you see a little blur running straight towards you. "Holy shit, is that Gary Coleman?" you think to yourself. Now instead of thinking about your escape, you just start thinking about your favorite episode of "Diff'rent Strokes." Boom, Gary Coleman takes you to the ground.
God bless you, Gary Coleman.