My husband is 42, and his dad still calls him Doodle. My dad called me Katty Girl.
My son is almost 14, but he’ll always be Joshi Poo.
None for me. My parents didn’t even use a “baby” name for me when I was a child.
Bala which means “baby girl”
Prior to my official, religious naming I had a pet name of Gondoba (wasn’t named for a year) but no one really calls me by that now.
My nickname that I tell people to call me by was my childhood nickname but around the age of 10 my mother made an executive decision that I should be called by my legal name. Personally I think it’s because it’s three syllables and therefore more satisfying to shriek out.
My father, a Flinstones fan, used to alter my name slightly and call me “The Great Stazoo”.
(I go by “Stasia” as the diminutive of Anastasia)
Booboo- like Yogi’s lil buddy. Apparently this got my mom in trouble once. See, she was in the store and said something like, “You want some cookies, Boo boo?” And some old lady ran up screaming, “How DARE you call that child an accident! ALL LIFE IS PRECIOUS!”
After that, my mom started using Booboo a little quieter.
My first name is Samantha, so I’m been called Sam-I-Am and Sammers.
The ironic thing about the Sam-I-Am nickname is I’m allergic to eggs so I WILL not CAN not eat green eggs and ham, not with a fox, not in a box…
HEY! I call my husband “Doodle”!!! All the time! Well, there are other nicknames, but that is currently the most popular.
My mother calls me Panda (my name is Amanda).
My dad calls me Lizzie Borden (my middle name is Elizabeth). 
He’s called me that for as long as I can remember, and I remember actually finding out who Lizzie Borden was around five years old. I laughed.
E.
My mother called me “Pot”.
My Mom calls me Punkin.
:eek:
Maybe that’s why my mom only called me Boo. She doesn’t do it much anymore, though some days, like today, she’ll do it.
Pookie or Pooker. By my dad only, never by my mom.
Buglet. As in, a small bug.
Winky. (I predate the house elf by many decades)
It’s because my Dad used to put me on his knee and we would do a “stare down” contest–and the first one who blinked lost. I was pre-reading, and of course, I always lost. I have no idea why it’s not Blinky.
When I was 6, I put a box on the end of it–so I became Winky Box. The reason escapes me.
It fits!
I call my daughter La-La (youngest sib couldn’t say her name properly) and punkin, middle kid is sweet pea and youngest is snuggle bunny (which he may hate soon…).
Yeah, right, like I’m going to tell you guys. 
None, but my in-laws still call my wife “Perk”. She’s a cutie!
Oh, I cheerfully admit mine. It’s Jellybean. 
Call me Gilligan, though, and you die a slow and lingering and very painful death.
My Dad called me Tori-Pops, which I absolutely hated. Luckily it never stuck.
I call my elder son Squash (rhymes with his name) or Squashy, and the younger one Haji-Bo, which doesn’t rhyme with his name at all but is a far, far derivative!
When the younger one was a baby, I used his English nickname, as did his English grandparents and, oddly, his Japanese Grandmother. My husband and his sister and her family used his full formal Japanese name. Japanese grandpa used his own corruption of the Japanese name, and I used a huge number of nicknames and baby names based on both names.
When he was about one and a half, I was bemoaning to my elder son how unresponsive the little one was. Big boy looked at me very seriously and said “He probably doesn’t know who he is, Mummy, he has so many names”. It was a real eye opener, and we all began to make more effort to be consistent in naming him!
My name is Katie, and my dad used to call me Katrina. Most of the time he would shorten it to Katrink. He died last year- I miss him.
“Honey.” (I couldn’t say my own name and just said “Unny.”)