There was a woman who used to come to the Smokey City Folk Festivals with her two horrible children named, so help me God! Rueben and Rachel! The screamed, they shouted, they cried, they screeched nursery school songs, at the top of their little lungs, while their mother sat there, completely oblivious. She barely noticed the little monsters existed. I haven't seen Rueben or Rachel in years. The little nightmares must be grown now, unless someone had mercy on us all and drowned them.