I’m all for nicknames. When it came time to name our boys, I wanted them all to have a long “professional” name and yet go by a shorter “common” name. Richard, William, Russell, and Thomas are fine names, but I’d rather play in the sandbox with Ricky, Billy, Rusty, and Tommy. That’s just me.
Yet, even with them already going by nicknames, Ricky has given Tommy a name of his own. A pet name. A name that gets under my skin. A name that I’ve corrected until I’m blue in the face yet Ricky still insists on using. A name that Rusty picks up and occasionally uses as well (much to my dismay). A name that I hope won’t hang around into adolescence.
I present to you …
Goo Goo.
Yep. Goo Goo. Ricky calls him Goo Goo.
“Here’s your cup, Goo Goo.” “B-bye, Goo Goo!” “Isn’t Goo Goo cute?”
No, son, your mother doesn’t think the name Goo Goo is cute. But what does a mother know?