Did you ever get saddled with an embarrassing nickname? By family, friends or anyone else? What was it and how did you earn it?
When I was 16 I fell asleep completely drunk in my best friends tree. It was in the middle of a huge rager and I felt it was necessary to get naked, climb, doze off in, and the subsequently fall out of said tree, impaling myself several times with little pine needles and branches on my unexpected and uncoordinated descent.
My nanny as a child a wonderful and jovial stereotypical large, elderly African American woman named Annie called me Bo Weevil from birth, so i was called "Bo" until my mother died 9 years ago. Mom was the last of the family to call me that. The name died with her.
My maiden name is Bird. Most everyone called me Baby Bird. My name is Barbara and when very young I introduced myself as Blah Blah Bird so my sister called me Blah Blah. In elementary school they called me Bird turd. Only scarred me a little. When in Grad school in Cairo they called me "Asfoura"= Bird out by the Giza pyramids.
Now I'm "Colton's Mom. Lol.
Some of the students I taught would call me variations of my last name: like Stratacaster or Neomtarts (don't ask, long story). Suffice it to say, I attempted my entire 10 years of teaching to get rid of them ... but every year, at least 1 prior student would inform the newcomers what the nickname was ... and boom ... there it was ... I suppose I should have been flattered because they meant it in good fun and not in spite ... but I hated hearing it.
When I was 14 at summer camp, there were five of us girls in the bunk who were close. One of them loved The Three Musketeers and decided we would all be named after all of them -- she was D'Artagnan, the next three were obviously Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. I was the last one, so what name did they give me? Glucose. I grudgingly took it on, but I wasn't happy with it.
As a child, my nickname was "Monkey" because I loved climbing trees. I stuck a book in the back waistband of my shorts and nimbly climb a tree. Hopelessly skinny, waistbands were always loose. I'd settle into the crotch of a tree and read.
Below me, kids ran around fighting, arguing and getting into trouble. It was fun watching the melee while safely hidden above them.