Tibedeaux hated his name. Besides no one ever being able to pronounce it correctly, the name had no meaning. As a man who searched for meaning in everything, this bothered Tibedeaux. Once, when he was young, Tibedeaux asked his mother where his name came from. She told him, quite emphatically, the name simply popped into her head one day, when she was a little girl, while on a class trip to a French art museum. Staring at a picture of a young boy leaning on his mother and happily sucking on a lollipop practically the size of his head, she saw a vision of her life in the future, or what she hoped it to be. Happy. For her life at the time was not. In that moment, she named the lolli-sucking boy “Tibedeaux,” and she vowed to bestow the name upon her first born.
And so it was how Tibedeaux got his name. And so it became how he hated it forever.
In his defense, Tibedeaux really is a stupid name.