Wednesday, August 15, 2012


I will be very hesitant about giving my son or daughter a nickname. As cute as these little pet names can be, it can lead to some serious confusion later in life.  For instance, today at work I was asked a simple question, simple to most people at least.

What is your name again?

I instinctively began to say Pete, but then remembered my work badge says Shawn. While this process was going on in my head, she was undoubtedly thinking that I was a bumbling idiot who couldn't come up with his own name.

I have my sister to thank for this...

I was named Shawn but that wasn't working for her so she took it upon herself to change my name and in doing so changed my life forever.

As the story goes, when I was two, maybe three years old my sister started calling me Pete.  Why you ask?  Because she thought I looked like Peter Brady from The Brady Bunch.  I guess this means I had three choices, Greg, Peter, or Bobby.

My birth certificate, driver's license, and social security card all read Shawn, but anyone who knows me will forever call me Pete, it's my name, and that's fine with me.

But ever since school it has always lead to the same series of questions that has become all too familiar.  Where did Pete come from? Is that your middle name? 

At times I've even been called a hybrid combination of Shawn/Pete.  Another lady at work took to calling me Bobby.  Horrified, but knowing the answer, I asked her why.  Because you look like Bobby Brady, you know from----Please Stop! Is this a joke? I'm cursed by a TV show.

Some people get to choose their nicknames, others are earned.  I got mine because my sister couldn't pronounce the letter S.  And to make matters worse, she has recently informed me that if we have a boy, she will call him, you guessed it, Repeat.


  1. So what's your name again?
    Love, your wicked stepmother

  2. I don't know...I'm so confused!