Most people have a few nicknames in their lifetime and I’m no exception. My family is notorious for manipulating your name into more syllables than are in supercalifragilisticexpealidocious. I don’t know why or how, but we’ve all inherited the trait of renaming and thus, reinvigorating someones’ name.
Dede. Dirty. Rose. Missy. Angel. D’Angel.
Heed. Hebodecht. Jenkins. Mister. Meester. Dog (?)
Louis. Loose Kaboose. Young Squire. Kabooski. Wooski.
This is me and my two brothers…I’m sure you can just guess their real names?!
But me, I ended up with something really special out of all of this. I ended up with a new name. My name is Michelle to my mother and it always has been. Regardless of the fact that middle name is ‘Ann’ and my first name is ‘Katelin,’ I am more frequently addressed by ‘Michelle’ than any other name. Most people’s nicknames are derivatives, at the very least, of a name they actually have. Mine is just a nickname that happens to be a fully different name. It’s caused a lot of identity crisis in the last twenty four years…
And then we started naming our pets after our nicknames and making things all go up in smoke.
I hate to say it, but someday when I have kids, I make no guarantees about their verbal i.d. What’s in a name anyways?