On Naming My Future Children

I figure it might be a good idea to give my child a first name ending in the letter “s.” From a purely practical standpoint, think of all the time it will save my offspring when writing in the third person possessive. Waxing futuristically on a more global scale, can you imagine the timesaving impact for someone else writing about my kids and their ensuing world-changing famousness?

For example, the main difference between “My son Bob’s first drawing was a spectacular treatment of line and form” and “My son Vernados’ first drawing was a spectacular treatment of line and form”, other than the obvious cool factor of Vernados*, is the additional “s” character required for those names not blessed with a permanent “s” ending. But in reality, it’s more than one letter. It’s one letter in repetition, spread over a lifetime of words, filling pages both traditional and digital in nature, and becoming a dark cloud of indeterminable size, destroying anyone in its path. 

Suppose my son(s) and/or daughter(s) are (due to their parent’s own selfishness or thoughtlessness) saddled with non-ends-in-s names, but, despite this nomenclatural set-back, grow into speed-writer(s) and/or typist(s) that can deftly crank out that errant “s” chop-chop? “Then this entire treatise is unimportant” you might say. 

You silly, silly person. You buffoon. I’ll have a hearty guffaw at your expense. Even taking in to account the velocity of their penmanship, the combined might of wasted time flittered away on avoidable letters could quite possibly shave YEARS of productivity and happiness off of their precious lives.

Am I to create life only to intentionally chip away at its luster, one letter at a time? I say the college fund is a minor detail in light of offering my legacy the gift of MORE TIME to learn, to savor, to create, to love, to live. 

Sans the concluding “s”, given names will undoubtedly curse my children, selling each into a lifetime of servitude to that very letter which is not a part of them, but an alphabetical parasite attaching itself forcefully to their monikers whenever they attempt to state ownership. This is not an issue to be taken lightly. My kids will not be alone in their woes. Every well-intentioned scribe who feels the need or compulsion to reference them possessing anything in sentence form will also taste this bitter wrath.

My future children, you will be here one day. You will be beautiful. You will be loved. You will be amazing. And you WILL have more time to live, to rasie a glass in praise of the foresight of parents visionary enough to look into the future, and see how lifesaving one little letter can be.

*Vernados is of Greek origin and means “courage of a bear,” which is probably way cooler than whatever your name means, so just back off.