Saturday, 19 November 2011

He who shall not be named

Travis the Lionheart has amassed a nicklebag of nicknames these last few years.

(That’s right; I invented a collective noun. I figure if a clowder of cats and a murder or crows is legit, why not a nicklebag of nicknames?)

(PS: a ‘nicklebag’ is the Americanised term for a bankie. Yes, a bankie of weed.)

(PPS: It’s fitting because stoners are a group of social misfits who call each other Joint and Woody and Shaggy or that universal umbrella term ‘Bru’.)


Here’s an assortment of the endearments I have attached to my first-born: Mr T, Monkey Face, Silly Bear, Honey Bear or just Bear, Travmeister, Travpants, Sweetie-sweeeeetie, Boo-ba-la, Baba-loo, Balleeboo and quite a whack of other nonsense. And, of course, Travis the Lionheart.

It drives my husband bonkers! “His name is not Bear, it’s TRAVIS!” he’ll say to me irritably while I’m cooing over my kid. This, in turn, really yanks my ponytail, because he gets to call Travis ‘sausage’ and always has!

Parenting tip: You don’t want to drop off your kid at the school gates, ruffle his hair and say: “Have an awesome first day... [wait for it]... sausage!” The resulting therapy bills could really lay waste to your retirement plans.

Earlier this week, I’m betting little Ryan would have loved to be called ‘sausage’. Or just be called ANYTHING, frankly. Because for a good 72 hours, the Little Prince was christened ‘the other one’ when in Trav’s earshot.

On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we weren’t allowed to say the name ‘Ryan’ without Travis unleashing his most ear-disintegrating death-shriek to showcase his annoyance that we would DARE mention that bottle-sucking, rattle-shaking brat in his royal Lionheart’s presence.

So my husband would whisper over Trav’s head: “We need to get ‘that other one’ in the bath soon.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “I’ll get a bottle ready so ‘the other one’ has something to drink after we’ve finished dressing him.”

This while the Lionheart watches us with moooo-cho suspicion from his sentry point next to the washing machine.

It brings new meaning to the term: name-dropping.

1 comment:

  1. It does! We fully intend on learning Portugese or Mandarin or something as our kids are now bilingual, and one can almost spell - so we have no secret communication anymore.


Thanks for sharing, Lionheart readers. ROAR!