Baba
I called my mom Ayeeh (Marathi/Konkani) till I was about 10 after which my sister and I both started calling her “Mummy”. She is still Mummy.
Daddy until around age 7 or so, then Dad. He’s still Dad today. My mom still refers to him as “daddy,” though.
Female, white, midwestern, born in '87.
I called him Daddy for long enough that I chose that. I probably started transitioning to Dad around 11 or 12.
Sir.
No Army connection or anything.
Saskatchewan, 1970s, very anglo family.
I call mine Dad mostly. I called him Daddy until my late teens and sometimes still do.
missred, native midwesterner, 47, white
My first word was Dada. That soon became Daddy and will stay that way. I’m a Southern woman, born in 1943.
I still miss my Daddy too, but he would always tell me to keep my chin up, so I can’t make a frowny or sad face. He would joke me out of it anyway. He was born in 1906.
My father called his parents “Ma” and “Pa.” Yeah, they were practically the Kettles. (Actually, this was part of the basis for my maternal grandmother’s opinion that my father wasn’t “good enough” to marry her daughter. She thought that my paternal family was low-class. Which is funny/ironic on many, many levels.)
Papá (Dad). Same thing he and Mom called their respective fathers; I know that my brother’s parents-in-law still got to call their fathers Padre (Father).
Thanks for reminding me of a Mafalda strip!
Mafalda: “Dad, what’s the difference between ‘dad’ and ‘father’?”
Dad: “None, but ‘father’ is more respectfu.”
Mafalda: Stays pondering for a while, and her father gets back to work potting plants. Then she says… “So I will never be able to call you ‘father’?”
Dad does a WTF face while dropping the gardening tools.
Asshole.
Papà (he’s Italian), but I always referred to him as “my dad.” I tried calling him “Dad” when I was little and he refused to respond. 
Dad. My mother sometimes called him “Papi” or “Pop” as did we, but generally only in poking fun.
I’m 23, white, raised in the mid-west.
As an aside, we refer to our other relatives as their title + name. So, “Grandma Connie”, “Uncle Nick”, etc. And then cousins just by their name.
For me it was Daddy. Still is too. But my mom is just Mom. I was born and raised in Southern California, 30 years old. I occasionally refer to my mom as Ma with a really nasally long A, just cause it annoys her, but it is and always will be Daddy.
!!!
Whoa. My brother was born in the 70s, I think if he used ‘Sir’ seriously Dad would have laughed in his face.
I used Daddy as a very small child but Dad after toddlerhood.
Mama, on the other hand, is a regionalism I still use, generally just as a form of address (but occasionally to refer to somebody when my inner redneck gets out, i.e. “Your mama’s gonna slap the shit out of if she sees you like that!”) I use and used “mom” to talk about her to other people.
British, 30s. Daddy. Never called him anything else, apart from for about twenty minutes when I was seven or eight and decided I was “old enough” to call my parents by their first names. They went along with it, knowing I wouldn’t like it and wouldn’t keep it up, and they were right. When speaking about him to others, I call him my dad, my father or my daddy, depending on who they are and what the context is.
Day by day the percentages only get worse, as me and my compatriots slowly sink deeper into the depths of the abnormal. Only 1.75% of respondents now :(.
Ah, well - something to talk about when I have dinner with “George” on Monday :D.
I called my paternal grandfather “grandpa” until I was about 16. Then one day, out of the blue, he looked me in the eye and said, in all seriousness, “Call me Sam.”
To his dying day I called him “Sam.” Mrs. Homie thought it was extremely disrepectful, although she calls her mother “Judy” from time to time. Pot meet kettle, and all that.
Personally, I think it would have been disrespectful to NOT have called him ‘Sam’.
He was doing you an honor, I think.
Was “Daddy” then one day, as I was walking into his room to tell him goodnight, I decided that calling him “Daddy” was too baby and from then on I called him “Dad”. I remember the moment like it was yesterday.
I also called him “sir”, but that’s because I’m bad with faces/names and quite early fell into the habit of speaking names as little as possible, not because he was all like “RESPECT MY AUTHORITAH!!!”