Bubba

I have about a billion and one cheesy little nicknames for my little nephew. Some of them stick and then he gets called that by other members of my family. Sometimes they’re spur of the moment baby talk nicknames. And sometimes, my favorite, the nicknames are made just to witness the chagrin on his parents faces.

Here are some of my favorites.

Bubba: This one originated when my sister and I were little kids. My dad ‘adopted’ a stray dog who was as stupid as shit but kind of lovable, so he came up with a nickname to fit it. That was Bubba. Honestly it just sounds like such a funny nickname that I’ve called friends that over the years, and when my nephew was born, I knew I could antagonize my sister by calling her kid Bubba. She hates it. I love it. It’s sticking.

Goober: This one started long before the kid finished his gestation. When we saw the first sonogram pictures he looked like a peanut. So at first I called him the Peanut Baby for a long time, but this evolved into the southernism of “Goober”. My sister doesn’t mind this one, and somehow it still seems quite fitting, so we all call him little Goober.

Burrito Baby: When we swaddle little Liam up in his swaddle blanket, he looks like a burrito. He used to look like a little burrito, now he looks like a giant burrito. Either way, he’s a burrito. And when he can’t sleep and you’ve got to dance him all around and sing him to sleep, we called it the burrito dance and the burrito song. He’s the cutest burrito you ever saw though.

The Boob Finder: Okay let me explain. Obviously infants and boobs have a great connection and all that, but this baby is a particularly skilled boob finder. No matter what you’re wearing this kid will manage to yank it down low so he can get at least one of his little hands wedged between your boobs. And you don’t even have to be related! It’s a very particular skill, and if he tries and fails then he’ll cry until he has the comfort of his boob connection. Then he’s happy. Grandpa jokes that he’s just getting a head start in life… only I’m not sure he’s joking.

Mr. Pooper: Everybody poops. At least that’s what the baby book tells us. But this kid has got skills. The moment you change his diaper and get him in a new nappy, he’s determined to mark his new territory. Moments later you hear/feel his tiny little blasts as he farts his way towards his next poop. He’s an expert. And once he actually poops, it goes everywhere. This kid can shit right through a diaper, right through a onesie, right through his little jeans, and right through the clothing of whoever is holding the little guy at that unfortunate moment. He’s an expert.

Wittle Sweety McCuddles McMuffin: Okay. I admit it. Yes, I actually called him this. It was 99.9% to annoy my brother in law. And .1% just a moment of weakness.