OLIVE: Like most families, mine has a deep dark secret. And since I’m spilling all this dirt, I might as well go ahead and confess it. Okay, here goes: My dad’s name is Dill and my mother’s name is Rosemary. They were so amused by this they decided to name all their children after edible items. My brother’s name is Kale and my sister’s name is Ginger. The Penderghasts are a veritable pantry.
I know it’s weird, but at least they didn’t give us douchy hipster names like Bronx or Jezebel or Roman. I swear, you yell “Roman” in a playground these days, ten little rugrats look up at their unimaginative parents reading Us Weekly.
