‘WHO COULD HATE THE NAME TABITHA?’

I am entirely furious and baffled about the current furore over baby names. Don’t get me wrong, I’m snobbish as a swivel-eyed Mumsnetter about hyphens or deliberately wayward spellings.

But how can any survey lay claim to accuracy when Tabitha is on a list of “trendy” names that grandparents dislike?

For a start, it’s of biblical origin: “Now in Joppa there was a certain disciple named Tabitha, which translated means Dorcas. She was full of good works and of alms that she continually did.”

Poor tireless Tabitha, who sewed tunics and made garments, eventually died but was raised from the dead by Peter the apostle, so that she might skivvy once more in the name of the Lord.

As you may have guessed, one of my daughters is called Tabitha, who, incidentally, loves good works, especially if they involve rubber gloves and a bottle of Cif. She is eight years old, full of reckless joy and possesses such a singular browneyed charisma that adults are irresistibly drawn to her even before she’s transformed their manky old cookers into things of gleaming wonder.

Nobody has ever passed comment or winced at her name, quite the reverse. Her grandparents loved it when they were told.

A few people asked if I named her after the daughter in the Sixties comedy Bewitched, which I didn’t.

I unilaterally chose her name without consulting my husband and texted it to everyone, including him at 4am from my hospital bed because I figured that after yet another nightmarish labour it was my birthright, so to speak.

So I have no regrets about calling her Tabitha. I hope she won’t either.

And if she does, she can always rebrand herself as Dorcas.