The shit people name their kids.

When I was at a Saint Vincent de Paul resale shop the other week, I found a cool shirt, but I couldn't find the dressing room, and when I was going up to the counter to ask where one was, I could see this fat forty-something mom with a white tanktop on and her bra straps showing calling bitchily and languidly over her shoulder to her kid who was getting into stuff and being like, "Ambrosia! Come here now."