Welcome to public life, Florence Rose Endellion Cameron. There will be some who mock the Camerons for naming their latest child after a village in Cornwall near where she was born - it's a bit Brooklyn Beckham - but not me, especially since my middle name is McFarlane (it's a family thing).
Endellion is sweet enough as a middle name and at least it carries personal meaning. From now on, whenever young Florence is asked about her unusual name, she will have a more interesting story than explaining that she was called Sarah or some other run-of-the-mill name because her mum just liked it.
It reminds me of Barney Williams, the Canadian rower who was Oxford's president in the Boat Race a few years ago. He was so chuffed by Oxford's win that he gave his new-born son the middle name Hammersmith, which was probably better than calling it Mortlake or Harrods Depository.
Endellion is also rather better than some of the North Cornish villages and towns they could have given to her. Bude, say, or Bodmin. Padstow is no name for a girl.
The name is a corruption of Endelienta, a Cornish saint whose godfather, according to legend, was King Arthur. Given that Arthur is also the name of her big brother, that could prove tricky to explain.
With my own first child due to be born in six weeks, I probably ought to start fishing around for similar geographical names. Since I probably won't be able to fit in a holiday in Cornwall before the due date, my wife and I shall have to look closer to home in southeast London.
Maybe the little one should be called Lewisham? No, Viscount Lewisham was the spineless president of MCC who failed to stand up for the England cricket captain during Bodyline.
How about Catford? No, that would only get abbreviated to Cat, which is horridly EastEnders.
Charlton? Charlie? Hmmm. Kidbrooke? Kidbrooke Kidd? Perhaps not. Blackheath Kidd has a certain grandeur, or maybe I could call it Millennium Dome Kidd. Perhaps Bodmin wouldn't be so bad after all.