When we moved to the country the first time - in 1971 - we were amazed at the number of nicknames. I knew Aussies called people with red hair Blue and tall people Stretch and shortened or lengthened names to become Bazz or Freddo or Jilly, but here everyone seemed to have a nickname.
I never did know Spont's real name and only knew that Splint was Ian because that's what his wife called him.
In some cases nicknames to be a family institution. We encountered Ferg. Fair enough. It was short for Fergus. Then we discovered his sons were also Fergs. I think they had real names because at least one of them was on my class role as Neil or at least I think that was it; he was always Ferg....
I've never really had a nickname at least not one I ever heard the schoolkids calling me. I do know my Mum once told the gardener that I was BB (Bossy Boots) because i sorted out about paying him when she was no longer doing well. My family called me Glen and my sisters flirted with Spud for a little while when I was a small child, but neither of those was for public consumption.
Recently I caught up with my oldest grandchild. He's nearly twenty-three and we were joking that he is now older than his father was when he was born. When we talked of the possibility of great grandchildren (not yet!) the darling boy looked at me and sweetly said, 'Then I guess you'd be Old Gran.' Phew! I'd not thought of that.
He was the first great grandchild for my Mum. When he was very little she leant over and said to him, "I suppose I'm your Old Gran then,' and it stuck. Our grandies all have memories of Old Gran and they are fond memories. Even when she got to be old she knew they were special and she loved to see them. She was generous and caring.
So I may not have a nickname but I would be proud one day to be Old Gran. What footsteps to follow. What an inheritance...
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