I have had multiple nicknames throughout my lifetime. Who hasn’t? Most people think that nicknames are extra bits of love given to you from people who will always be there with you to act as an armored link in your life. My nicknames weren’t so aspiring.
Little Fat Hiney–Loving, eh? This was given to me by my parents when I was a baby because I had a plump butt. And my parents were prophets….I still have a plump booty. Thank the Lord, they don’t call me that anymore. But they do refer to it OFTEN when reminiscing about our childhood. Those are the times that I think lovingly on Alzheimer’s. Yes, I am a terrible, terrible child.
Lorry–my real name is Lorene. My common name is Lori. Unfortunately, a Lorry in England is a truck. I was a little plump pre-adolescence, so after a visit to England, my loving brother gave me that name. And so did all his friends. Ahhh… the love of siblings. Of course, after flirting with anorexia in my teens, I was never called a Lorry again. One way to fix that. Although not the smartest.
Lowie–I worked in a mob-run Italian deli for several years as a teenager. We were paid “under the table” and illegally ran the slicers. I was the only girl in a group of 16 guys. All were CONNECTED in some manner. Me? My grandpop was best friends with most of the mob in my mob-run town and politically connected. While my dad was an embarrassment to him (we were Protestants in an area of Italian Catholics), and we hardly ever saw him, he did “arrange” for me to work there. Best thing grandpop ever did for me. I was sequestered by my parents, both of whom had been abused, and I knew little of the world. The guys fixed that. They taught me about life, more than I ever learned in private school. And they taught me how to talk to boys. I was given the name “Lowie” because I was low (wo)man on the totum pole. That’s ok by me, I was not allowed to do some of the chores. And most of it was unloading stuff in the freezer. Hmm… I think I got the best end of that restriction! And of note, all of the boys received severe injuries to digits. My brother and I worked there for 5 years without a cut. They were ding dongs, we were careful.
Loo–lovingly given by a best friend in college, but the association with a toilet was not something I bragged about at parties. Of course, Loo was a nod both to Lori and the fact that he often held my head over one….. 🙂
Lorli–given to me as a young nurse by a 20 month old who came to the dialysis unit every day for treatment. He was my baby Tay-Tay, I was his Lorli, which he would scream over and over with heartbreaking earnestness when I had to put him back in the crib. As our unit was “open”, everyone could hear and see the crocodile tears. He was my first true love, and I was his second momma for 4 years before his kidney transplant. Everyone called me Lorli; it was my trade name. He has returned to my dialysis unit twice over the last 20 years from failed transplants, and I have achingly watched him lose multiple friends and loved ones through the violence of guns. Through it all, he remains sad but resilient. My hero.
Mamma Duck–I started in pediatric dialysis at the age of 24, the youngest by 10 years. I had 6 momma ducks caring over their little “ducky egg” and growing me up to be the dialysis nurse I am today. The tables have turned, they have all moved on and I have stayed to be the educator and trainer, so I am now Momma Duck. The medical circle of life. And that is the way it should be.
Some people have nicknames for themselves. Weirdos…..ok, I am a weirdo, although I prefer the term QUIRKY. I have one. Gimpet. Given by me to myself one night while coming up with a character name when playing D and D with my brother. The boy-gang posse were not impressed. Most fell laughing to the floor. I thought it was cute and quirky, and very me. Although “gimpy” is sadly right around an ugly corner, so I use it sparingly.
My brother calls me Lor…akin to bore, sore, roar, whore [GASP] and various inanimate objects. So he is either too lazy to find a decent nickname or he is insulting me. I’m voting on the laziness, it’s a little kinder.
No nicknames from my husband. He is not a “cutsie” nickname kinda guy. And as a man who named himself “Facebear”, I am eternally grateful….