Advice to parents before they saddle their child with a special name.
What’s in a Name?
This week’s free fiction
Aloysius never forgave his parents for the cruel name they gave him. Or his classmates’ cruel jokes (although it would have been bad even if the kids didn’t tease him). He could have gone by Al, but even Al was a name for old guys. Like that Minnesota Senator who put his hands on the radio star’s tits and was in a movie once.
Scratch that. It was the kidding. If you could call it kidding. It was more like verbal waterboarding. The teasing didn’t even make sense, but it gutted him every time, like slicing open a fish and spilling its guts on a rock, then smashing another rock on top of them. “Aloysius. Didn’t you go extinct with the other dinosaurs?” or “‘Was lunch delicious?’ ‘No, it was the opposite of delicious. It was Aloysius, which means tastes like shit.’”
It was the kidding. If you could call it kidding. It was more like verbal waterboarding. The jokes didn’t even make sense, but they gutted Aloysius every time.
No one could pronounce Aloysius either. Or spell it. Every time someone new called his name, it was like listening to them talk through a mouth full of marbles.
They could have named him Alan, Alvin, Andrew, or even Anderson.
Aloysius slammed his fist into his dresser. He’d never do that to his son. Never in a million years. So when he married, he named his son Longcock.