Nicknames... gotta love 'em...

I love nicknames. Some people hate… I mean, really HATE nicknames. They give their child a certain name, and they expect people to call their child by their given name, by golly. Which I can totally respect. I, however, love diminutives… nicknames… as evidenced by the names of my daughters. I gave both of them what I thought were very classic, beautiful, timeless names. The names in fact, of two of the sisters in one of my favorite books: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Josephine and Elizabeth. Yet we call them Josie and Libby. I guess I just figure I get two great names for the price of one. ;-)

So, yes, I love nicknames. I love the stories behind nicknames. And even though it’s hard to shorten ‘Staci’, I’ve had my share of nicknames, too. In high school, it was tradition that when you were on the varsity cheerleading squad, the sponsor, Ms. Bray, would give you a nickname. Sometimes it would take Ms. Bray longer to choose some girls’ nicknames than others. But once you were given a name, THAT was your name. Evidently, mine was pretty easy. I was dubbed ‘Miss Priss’ practically from the beginning… which was shortened to ‘Priss’ almost immediately. Of course, I was in good company with Grumpy, Huey, Christmas Tree, Gabby, and Gumby, among others. So ‘Priss’ was my name, and it stuck. Ms. Bray never called me anything else. And when I saw her years after I had graduated, she still called me Priss. I guarantee that if I saw her tomorrow, I would still be her ‘Priss’, even though it has been over 21 years since I was first christened with that little moniker. (Jeez… I feel old now!)

At the scrapbook store where I work a few hours a week, teaching classes and spending any money I might actually make, I have been given the dubious nickname of ‘Cyclops’. Why?! Because I’m ‘Staci with just the ‘I’…. Get it?!! To differentiate me from the other two Staceys that work there. Do I mind? Of course not… it actually makes me laugh. It’s even funnier that customers have been known to call the store to sign up for a class, and they check to make sure that ‘Cyclops will be teaching’.

I do have to admit, though, that I haven’t always loved my nicknames. When I was little, my oldest cousin, Kenneth, loved to tease me when we would visit them in Mississippi, and he gave me a nickname which made me so mad, and made me cry more than once. He called me…are you ready for this? ‘Staci the Tasty Pastry’. I know… it’s soooo horrible, right?! NOW, I know it’s not that bad… that’s it actually kind of cute, but when I was a kid, just the sound of that could send me into a whining fit so fast; it’d make your head spin. “Maaake hiiim STOP!!” The grownups would reason with me, "He calls you that because you're so sweet." Nope. Still hated it.

It’s funny how time changes things. I’d love to see Kenneth… it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. And I just know he’d resurrect the nickname I haven’t heard in a long time. This time, though, I’m pretty sure I’d smile.