And I was (guessing at spelling)
dakh-ling (my memory tells me it’s monkey butt, but for some reason, that doesn’t seem right)
dah-doh (big eyes)
JuJu (not a Thai nickname, just a corruption of Julie)
Chopsticks (for my skinny legs)
dang-moh (watermelon belly)
And, when she was feeling especially playful, a long phrase which I won’t even try to spell, which translates to “You’re so ugly a dog wouldn’t eat you.”
My father has an odd sense of humour.
For some reason I’m “Kate the rake”. I got off lightest.
My sister was “Patsy Puker” as an infant and became “Becca the Wrecker” later on.
Baby sis is “Juicy Lucy” or “Lucifer” or “Juicifer” or " Lucy Poosie" or “Puccini”.
Ooooooh, I gotcha beat. I forgot all about it until I saw your post.
My father still calls me Super Pickle. It was a stuffed toy he gave me when I was three or four (I still own a Super Pickle, too). Before I was married, I used to initial everything S.P. (Stasia maiden name that starts with P). He tells everyone it stands for Super Pickle.
My younger brother’s name is Shaun, and he was my mother’s obvious favourite. She would sing to him, to the tune of You Are My Sunshine: “You are my son Shaun, my only son Shaun!” etc. We were strolling through the mall one day when I was ten and my brother was five, and she began singing her “Son Shaun” song. Shaun looks up at her, and then asks, earnestly, “If I’m your sunshine, what is Stasia?” My mother looks startled, thought for a few seconds, and then said, “She’s my Moonshine!”
So I was Moonshine for a short while. :rolleyes:
When my brother first started to walk, I was somewhere between five and six years old. My nickname then was Miss Talk-a-lot. His was Mr. Drop-bottle. I’m still learning how to shut the hell up. As for my brother, I haven’t seen him drop any bottles lately, so he must be doing all right.
I was Frank the Tank (middle name Frances) or Fud Fud.
My child is the very unimaginative Boo.
My father used to call me Kittydid when I was little… and he still does on occasion. My sister has always been Cricket to him.
I was Myrtle. Apparently I had a doll with a squeezeable middle section that induced the toy to laughter. It’s name was Myrtle. I loved that doll.
My children are Oswald and Josephine or My Little Chickens
My dad calls me Chipster as in chip off the old block. Everyone else calls me Jeepers, you know:
Jeepers, creepers, where’d you get those peepers.
Almost everyone butchers my real first name the first time (some people take longer and a despised few never get it right) they meet me, and no one calls me by my middle name except you guys. I love you guys.
Forgot to add my kids’ nicknames, probably because it changes so often. I tend to call them whatever bizarre thing pops into my head, from fuzz-bottom to monkey-face to just plain “baby”.
But more specifically, Zachary was “Pidge” when he was a tiny infant, because of the way his head would bob when he sat on my lap. (Also, Whacko Zacko, Zachary Dackary Dock, and Zackaroni) Emma was “Smudge” during most of my pregnancy through the early infant months, because of the way she looked in the first ultrasound, (as well as "Emma Dilemma) and Delaney was just Naney, Laney, and Zany Delaney, but most frequently, I call her “Goofy Girl” just because she likes it so much.
So… your name is Jeepers Maxx? 
Sure, if you are one of my aunts or my mother. You’re not my mother are you?
Are you a sparkle in my husband’s eye? You’re a little early. 
I was Schnicklefritz to both my parents and all the family on the German side. I don’t think I asked my mother what it meant until I was about 10. She got very red-faced and lied her ass off. First she told me it meant “princess”, then 'fessed that it was a little more unsavory…I think she BSed that it was “The favorite girl of the prince” or something, insinuating concubine.
It really means “Fritz’s penis.” Thanks, Mom!
The problem is, it’s such a great word, that I’ve caught myself almost calling my daughter the same thing! She gets called a lot of things, mostly Little Bit, 'cause she was just a little bit of a baby when she was born.
My son has always been Squirt, because when he was a baby, his father didn’t keep him adequately covered while changing his diaper and got it straight in the mouth. Brilliant boy! (He’s my ex, now.)
Lessee…when I was little, my parents called me Toodlehumper (for reasons I know not), often shortened to Toods. My aunt still calls me Lulu, from Amy Lou (while my first name is Amy, my middle name is not Lou). I definitely answer to Aims (and often sign notes that way), and I’m Auntie Aims to my nieces.
My sister was GoonieG, for Gooniegoonrod (yah, don’t know where that one came from either). My brother was just Beej.
I call my niece Bean a lot, and if I’m talking about her to my husband, I’ll often refer to her as the “smallness of a little person.”
We’re weird.
Heh - just thought of this.
Recently my 20-month old niece was wearing a shirt with a “TH” on it. It looked rather like an iron on or a silk-screened shirt that you’d had made up at some shop. I couldn’t figure it out, and almost asked my mom if it stood for ToodleHumper (and if it was an old shirt that I used to wear) before I saw the little blue, white, and red flag sewn into the sleeve. Perhaps Tommy Hilfigger should be upset that his name wasn’t the first thing that popped into my head.
Dads seem to be the biggest culprits.
Not me, but my dad was called “Buddy” by his mother throughout her lifetime. Okay, I’m not telling the complete truth . She shortened it to “Bud” when he hit 60.
Well, my dear dad called anyone of the six of us Jesus Christ or God Dammit interchangeably.
What?
You think Bill Cosby had the only dad like that?
Hmm…with the exception of the Thai nicknames, mine may just be the worst.
It was Pud.
My nickname always has been Ta, shortened from Ta Ta (taw taw) from Krista. My sister couldn’t say Krista, so I became Ta Ta, and now it’s just Ta.
My grandfather, from age 14 to 31 (last year) called me Hoy. We were in New Brunswick when I was 14 and saw a band at a festival and the audience participation was to yell “Hoy”. So, I did. hehe He died last year. What I wouldn’t give to have “Hoy” bellowed at me again!
I can’t remember what baby name my parents called me, but I do have one about my Mom and the baby name her parents (her Dad really) called her. Her name was Ruth, but her Dad called her “Fuff” (with the long U sound). When she went to kindergarten, the teachers tried to tell her that her name was Ruth, but she stamped her foot and told them, “No! My name is Fuff, not Ruth!” Now that would definitely be embarassing. My Granddaddy was great for making up baby names - and no, I’m not sharing what he called me.