Dear M. Tiny,

I want to congratulate you, first, on being off to a very good start in terms of being famous. Most babies are not able to achieve fame on their first day of life unless they are named "Apple" or they manage to fall down a well. Which? Is not likely, because even parents who can't keep their kids from falling into wells usually can keep it from happening on the first day. You, on the other hand, are already the subject of much chatter on your very first day. In the realm of public prominence, being on a DHAK blog may not be up there with being on Extra, but it makes you a lot cooler than most of the other babies at the hospital, a fact of which you should remind them if they step out of line. One thing you will learn in life is that how important you are correlates directly to how many comments are posted in a blog entry about you. So you are, as of this writing, 27 comments worth of cool, which means that you should definitely start thinking about a career in acting or public scandal, because you obviously have the mysterious It Factor that people are always talking about.

I'm not going to judge you for being born seven weeks early, even though you kind of freaked out your parents, because as I understand it, all children have a rebellious streak, and I know you are just "testing the limits." Furthermore, I can't blame you for not wanting to be born right around Thanksgiving, because that would mean that you would wind up spending your birthday with your relatives, whether you want to or not. (Nothing against your relatives.) This way, you can get your birthday out of the way a couple of weeks before Halloween, which means that you won't have to put up with stupid things like people coming to your party in kitty-cat outfits or trying to pass off desiccated pumpkins as gifts.

Your other big decision, I guess, was to be born before the election rather than after. I really hope you didn't do this on purpose thinking you were going to vote, because unfortunately, not only do you have to be born before the election in order to vote, but as I understand it, your due date has to be before the election. Therefore, only babies due on or before November 2 will be permitted to cast ballots. (Those due on or before November 2 but not yet actually born as of that time will be permitted to vote absentee.) I know this seems like unfair discrimination, but as you will learn, everything isn't quite perfect yet.

However, I wanted to make sure you were aware that there are many things you should be excited about. While you will not be allowed to vote, and while you may have to sleep in a dresser drawer for a short time and loll about the house in a Christmas stocking until all of the shopping gets done (not to blame you, but really, your fault), things are still pretty good, and you have made an excellent choice in being born. A few examples.

Music. You know how, with lots of kids, their first major academic accomplishment is reading? Yours will be memorizing guitar solos. Trust me. Also, we may call you from the pub quiz occasionally to answer Sesame Street questions. You probably won't get your own trophy, but your mom and dad will probably let you touch theirs, if you promise not to get goo on it. But what was I saying? Oh, right. Music. Dude, your dad is in a band. What this means is that your first album will be devoted to proving that you are not just M. Tiny, son of M. Giant, you are your own man. Try not to be too pretentious about this in Rolling Stone.

The outdoors. I don't want you to freak out or anything when people start giving you onesies made of three layers of Gore-Tex and two layers of ox fur. Believe me when I tell you that the climate where you live is not inhospitable. It's just really, really, really, really, really, really cold. I think it is a sign of your moxie and panache that you chose to begin life right at the opening bell of winter. While this will challenge you a little bit right at the beginning, by the time you are really old enough to do anything except open your eyes, close your eyes, have your diaper changed, and study French, it will be spring, which will be awesome. And then two weeks later, it will be summer, and it will be like ninety degrees with a million percent humidity, and . . . where was I going with this? Oh, right. The timing suggests that your first word will probably be, "Brrrrr."

Television. A lot of people will tell you that television is bad for you. Many of them are part of the FCC. In fact, television is not bad for you. (The FCC, however, is bad for you.) The point is to be discriminating. Never watch anything that talks down to you. Being an infant doesn't mean you don't appreciate a little intellectual discourse, and the best shows will understand that. A healthy eye-roll and changing of the channel will help communicate your frustration when you find that people are treating you like a child. Well, a smaller child. If you do decide you want to take an evening off and be talked down to as if you are incapable of thinking for yourself, there is always Fox News.

Reading. You should read a lot. Just read and read and read. Everyone says so. The books, the experts . . . apparently, reading is one of the big things that determines whether you will grow up to be smart. Of course, in order to make this come true, you have to read smart things, so don't get all tied up in books that are like, "Dogs say 'woof'" or whatever. That's not going to make you smart. Ask your parents for something about current events. Or the history of heavy metal or something.

Eating. Grand and Victoria, Bread and Chocolate, chocolate croissants. That's my advice to you. They melt in your mouth, so there is no need to have teeth, which is good for you, since you don't have any, probably. I mean, I haven't seen you, but I hear you're all gums.

Clothes. For some reason, a lot of times, babies have to wear really silly things like ribbons on their heads. You're lucky to be a boy, because a lot of that stuff won't apply to you. You won't have to get your ears pierced, or enter child beauty pageants, or wear the World's Tinest Crinoline. Not that I -- or your mom and dad -- would think any less of you if you wanted to wear the World's Tiniest Crinoline. You are the same M. Tiny to us, no matter how you choose to self-identify.

Miscellaneous. Don't buy Buicks. Mutts are better than purebreds, because they love you more and they're not so prissy. You don't need any Elvis Costello after Spike. Anything you spill, it's easier if you just clean it up right away. Investigate kitchen smells the first time you become aware of them. Make sure you get one of those CD openers, because CD packaging is really stupid and annoying. Never refuse to speak to people on the basis of their political affiliations. Don't argue with cops unless you absolutely can't avoid it. Live on campus. A guy who leans forward has a bad hand; a guy who leans back has a good hand. The best lullabye recording of all time is a version of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" recorded by Ladysmith Black Mambazo and a women's gospel/pop a cappella group called the Mint Juleps -- it was done for a Spike Lee TV special on PBS, so almost no one owns it but me, but fortunately, I'll be happy to loan it to you when you're cranky.

Your parents. Your parents are cool. You will forget this over and over and over again, because you will think that they're dorks, but in fact, they're really cool. So when they're acting like dorks? Remember, they're just acting. And try not to say "dorks," because it's kind of not a nice word. Don't swear gratuitously until you're at least eighteen.