Congratulations on the birth of your child earlier today. I have come to warn you: Do not name your son Denis.

Such an appellation will destine the fruit of your womb to ceaseless taunts from his schoolmates in puberty. His boyhood friends will inevitably discover that, by simply switching the first letter in his name with another popular letter of the alphabet, they can spell out the proper name of a certain portion of the male anatomy, leading to humiliation and disaster to your son’s reputation.

No, no, my identity is of no importance to you. Believe me when I say that you must, under all circumstances, at any cost, remain steadfast in your refusal to name your child Denis.

Ah, I hear you say. Ah! We can simply add another “N” to the name, and avoid this problem. Again, I say: do not name your son Denis. Even with two “N’s.” The letter that would otherwise be replaced by a “P,” would now be substituted with a “T,” resulting in the unfortunate nickname of “Tennis Ball.” In junior high school, this will be shortened to “Balls” and “Ballsy,” systematically destroying an idealistic youth’s self-esteem and nullifying his chances for a normal relationship in later life.

By doubling the number of times the fourteenth letter of the alphabet appears in your son’s name, you may also consign him to the fate of being forever known as “Dennis the Menace.” This will prove to be an equally unfortunate appellation. Everywhere he goes, from childhood on into early adulthood, your son will be referred to as Hank Ketcham’s popular cartoon character, and endure endless teasing about Mr. Wilson and Margaret. Peers can be so… cruel.

In college, if he makes it that far, your son will feel obligated to prove himself a menace, drinking himself into oblivion at frat parties and smashing table lamps into his forehead. He will require a multitude of stitches (thirty-seven, if experience is any guide) in his scalp, leaving an ugly and disfiguring scar for years to come. Following this, he will flunk out of school and find work in a nearby chocolate factory. You… you don’t want to hear the rest.

As I said, my name is of no consequence. Let me simply be known as the man who saved your son from a fate worse than death.

Please. I beg of you.

Don’t name your son Denis.

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.

Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.