A couple of years ago in Nimes I saw a shoe shop which convinced me that the French Academy are totally correct to insist in banning all forms of Franglais.
This shop, which specialised in sports shoes, had decided to give themselves a sexy modern image by using an English title for their shop.
Obviously unaware of what this harmless sounding phrase actually meant they had printed over their door in large capitals; Athletes Foot

This was a fair example of the difficulties of translating between languages, sometimes even worse can happen between two nations who purport to share the same one.

It was about 25 years ago that we first met our American friends Roxanne and Joe.
They were working for a firm in Waterford and came in to Ballinakill House, where I was chef, nearly every Friday night with their small daughter Jenny (now herself proud mother to Libby)
Roxanne and Joe were very active people and used to jog and cycle for health and enjoyment.
They had solved the problem of what to do with Jenny while they cycled by the simple expedient of bringing her with them.
This was made possible by an ingenious American baby transporter which attached to one of their bicycles and which they had brought over with them.
This they proudly showed us, even offered to lend it to us for our own daughter Caitriona who was much of an age with Jenny.
When we saw this we were first delighted, then shocked and finally amused.
Its brand name, which I am sure carried none of the connotations which the word carried here, was a “Baby Bugger”.

Post Script:
Believe it our not I just Googled “Baby Bugger” into the internet and they are still available in the States and under that name.