Ok, not John. How about Luigi?

Luigi.

That is not a baby name.

That is a man who owns a tile company.

You do not hold a six-pound newborn in your arms, look lovingly into his eyes, and think:

Luigi.

Luigi sounds like he already has two cousins in construction and a guy who can “take care of that for you.”

And there is absolutely no escaping Mario.

You can give the name a whole speech about heritage, tradition, family history, whatever you want.

Nobody cares.

Your son is Mario’s brother now.

Forever.

First day of kindergarten?

“Where’s Mario?”

Little League?

“Where’s Mario?”

College?

“Where’s Mario?”

Job interview?

The hiring manager is thinking it.

You have essentially sentenced your child to 80 years of Nintendo references.

And not even as the main character.

That’s the worst part.

You didn’t name him Mario.

You named him the other guy.

Luigi has permanent sidekick energy built directly into the name.

It sounds like someone who gets introduced with, “And this is Luigi.”

Even worse, Luigi is impossible to imagine as a normal American baby.

A baby named Michael? Sure.

A baby named Jack? Fine.

A baby named Luigi?

That child should already be leaning against a Cadillac.

Luigi doesn’t drink apple juice.

Luigi has an espresso.

Luigi doesn’t have a babysitter.

He has “family watching him.”

Luigi doesn’t go to daycare.

He goes “down by Uncle Tony’s for a couple hours.”

And imagine yelling it across a playground.

“LUIGI! TIME TO GO!”

Every parent turns around expecting a 54-year-old man in loafers.

It’s just too much name for a toddler.

Honestly, Luigi is less of a name and more of a character assignment.

If you name your son Luigi, he now has obligations.

He needs hand gestures.

He needs strong opinions about sauce.

He needs at least one mysterious uncle.

He needs to know how to say, “Forget about it,” before he knows the alphabet.

Could Luigi grow up to be an accountant?

Technically.

But would you trust an accountant named Luigi?

Absolutely.

Because Luigi sounds like he knows exactly where every dollar went.

Would I name my son Luigi?

No.

Not because it’s a bad name.

Because I’m not prepared to explain to a newborn that he has already been cast as Mario’s backup dancer for life.

There are thousands of names available.

You do not have to start your son’s life in Player Two.