Nicknames

My mom loved unusual names.  I think it was because she wanted exceptional children. She probably knew that we weren't going to be anything extraordinary, but at least our names could be. Mom and dad didn't really agree on what to name the children. Older brother was named after my dad, and he was okay with that, but my name, and my little brothers name kind of came out of left field. Mom loved them because they were so unique.  

In his quiet way dad protested, especially with my name. He called me by my middle name for quite a while. He might not have been able to verbalize it at the time, but I think he knew that my name would be a challenge. I was an unattractive child, with buck teeth, glasses and a speech impediment. Needless to say, I've never loved being the center of attention, and my name is a MOUTH FULL. If I had been thinking, I would have changed it when I turned 18. 

When asked for my name, I usually give "Martha Stewart." It worked well for me when I used it as a laser tag identifier and beat a bunch of teenagers. I must have been channeling my inner felon. But when I called and ordered pizza and gave that name, the kid taking my order actually hung up on me. Uh....... hello?

Anyways, dad was the master of nicknames. His family was always twisting names around, and it continues as the family grows. His sister was named "Sarah", but everyone knew her as "Sally." Dad was always called "Norky", and my mom hated it. He called us kids by nicknames as well. Some were just terms of endearment and it was always kind of a treat to hear him use the same names for our kids that he used with us. 

One of the funniest nicknames my dad ever used was for his boss. Dad was a dental lab tech for an orthodontist named Dr. English. He was a short guy with big hairy arms and sausage like fingers. Dentists didn't use gloves at that time and I'm sure you can imagine what it was like to be a child sitting in his chair. Dad always referred to Dr. English as "Stubby". Stubby seemed okay with it.

My older brother was 10 years old when little brother was born. He was so excited to have a brother instead of another sister. It didn't really matter that they were separated by so many years. Older brother picked up one of his nicknames because little brother couldn't say his name. It always came out "Mingy". So the rest of us began using it as well. "Mingy" became "Ming", which became "Emperor Ming" as he got older.

My little brother was tagged by our cousin, Chris. We vacationed in Mammoth every summer and one year, Chris came with us. Little brother was about 2-ish and loved to run around without his diaper. It was quite a funny sight  and the nickname "Buns" was the obvious choice. We all spell it differently. Mings' spelling of choice is "Bunz", whereas mine is "Bunns". I think Buns himself prefers to ignore the fact that he was even given such a nickname.

We used to just shorten his given name, but it always sounded like we were saying "Grunny". I think little brother should be thankful for "Bunns."

Be kindly affectioned one to another 

with brotherly love;

In honor, preferring one another;

Romans 12:10

Eugene Price

I grew up in a part of the country that was outdoor playing weather 360 days of the year. We went out early and stayed out until the street lights came on. We drank from the hose……….. No, it’s not just something cute on facebook, we really DID drink from the hose. And there’s something really special about the taste of water that’s passed through a garden hose. I also lived with perpetual stubbed toes because I never wore shoes. My toes finally cleared up when I got a job and was required to wear shoes to work. No. I didn’t grow up in West Virginia.

I was raised in an era where you spent most of the time playing outside with the neighbor kids and all of us walked or rode our bikes to school together without a second thought. “Go out and play” didn’t mean go play in the fenced back yard. It meant go out pretty much wherever you wanted to go and play. You knew mom would yell for you when she needed you.

I had 3 pretty good friends in our neighborhood. Carol, Sandy, and Mona.  Interesting that I spent a lot of time playing with them, but I don’t remember us playing much as a group. Maybe because Mona was a couple of years younger. But she was an “only”, and I really liked her. We did a lot of fun stuff together. The first time I ever saw snow was with Mona. Her dad had a dichondra lawn and my favorite thing was to pull the tops off the stalks in strips to make roads through the grass for the matchbox cars. Mona’s dad was NOT a happy man when we had been playing cars on his front lawn!

I had two brothers, too. My older brother was nicknamed “Mingy” and the younger “Buns”. Mingy grew up to be called “Emperor Ming”, and also picked up other names along the way. “Squats to pee” was my favorite. Anyway, Ming’s favorite thing to do was to tease the neighborhood boys. He always had a creative way of finding their weak spot and tormenting them with it. And so we come to Eugene.

Eugene was my friend Carol’s older brother. They didn’t have nicknames in their family. And Eugene was a little bit quirky. I remember he would spit a lot when he talked. That’s really about all I recall about him personally, but I’ll never forget what Ming used to do to him.

You see, Eugene had a very weak stomach. If you said the word “barf”, he would. And so he became a target occasionally for my brother. I’ll never forget the day when Ming spit on the sidewalk and Eugene promptly threw up.  Yep. Ming spit again with the same result. And I’m pretty sure that summer, Eugene lost a lot of weight.

Eugene and Ming were actually friends. I guess friendship is just a little twisted when you’re 11. I often wonder what happened to Eugene. His family moved away when we were still kids. Perhaps they had an inclination that Ming would eventually become “Squats to Pee” and got out while they still could. 

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.

Prov. 17:17

 

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