I think I just discovered why the Universe has seen fit to keep me from giving birth to a child. It’s streams of consciousness like this:
“Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play… Prudence, that’s a nice name. Prudence Josephine? Prudence Jo? We could call her PruJo. Haha. CuJo. It’s perfect.”
The Universe, in its infinite wisdom, must have decided that someone like me cannot be trusted with the task of naming a child.