What's In A Name?

21 years later

Brian @ Waystation One, inspired this memory today.

My second son was supposed to be named Patrick Dylan. My husband had named our first son according to his family tradition and it was now my turn. I had chosen the name years before. I always loved Patrick and I thought Dylan a fitting and fluid choice for a middle name and I loved Bob Dylan, Dylan Thomas, etc. The day the baby was born, my husband told me he didn't like the name I'd chosen and he wanted to name our second son after his father. I was pissed, to say the least. We argued 4 days. I'd had a C section and remained hospitalized for the week. The Vital Statistics lady kept telling me if we didn't name the baby before we left the hospital, we'd have to go through the court system, a tedious process. My OB advised me he and his wife had the same problem with their second child and ended up naming her Kimberly Clark after the tissue box. I didn't really believe him but it turned out to be true.

Anyway, I let my husband choose my son's first name and I chose the middle name, a family name, insisting we call him by that. His middle name is Fletcher. His friends call him Fletch. I am often asked if I named him after that silly Chevy Chase movie of the same name. The answer is a resounding "No!" He is named after my great great granduncle, Winslow Fletcher, a riverboat captain on the Mississippi.

btw, my son loves his middle name!

Nicknames

I have this habit of nicknaming things, people, pets, kids, husband, etc. Our current younger dog, Dewey, is called: Doodlebugger, Doodle Doo, Diggers, Sideways Dog, Pesky Pup. Zoe, our older dog, used to be called Radial Zoe, when she was sleek and young. Now we call her Fat Dog or Dog-Faced Dog. Sometimes, when calling both dogs at once, the way you call kids, I get so irritated I confuse the pronunciation of both names and yell out "Zooey & Doughy! Get in here!" It's always by accident but, there you go.

Our cat, Maggie, has many nicknames: the Baby, Miggie, Miggles, Magpie, Little Queen, Princess, Shmoopie (yes, from Seinfeld) and who knows what else. When my sons were little they had their own nicknames: the Peanut, Da, Fletchmonster, Pootie Head 1 & 2, Bry-Bry and my favorite, Little Angel(s).

I recently addressed a birthday card to my husband with a number of old nicknames on it: Mr. Irresistible, NuNu, Honey Bunny, the Grim Reaper, Scotty-Wotty Doo doo, Scotty-too-hotty. The last is a favorite nickname my girlfriend and her sisters call him. He doesn't mind it at all.

My nickname in high school was Peachy. I've never known the exact origin although there's speculation it may have referred to my breasts. The fellow who coined it was a regular date, always trying to cop a feel without success. I really think he just thought I was "peachy" and he tossed it out there. It is still my nickname to one remaining old friend. The others have died or disappeared from my life making this nickname very dear to me indeed.

As Shakespeare wrote, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

I bestow nicknames with affection and love. They are a reflection of how I'm feeling, what I see or both. I suppose "Fat Dog" isn't the nicest of nicknames but she's a good old dog and we treat her well, albeit by overfeeding somewhat.

I hope I'm called Peachy til the day I die.