I have been asked by numerous people why I call my kids Bubba and Dude. I am not paranoid, super private, weird, or native to a rural community so they wonder why don’t I refer to my own flesh and blood by their real names.
Let me start by saying it is sort of my fault but I can’t take full responsibility for the name changes.
Our story begins in December of 2009. Hubs had been in Nevada for nearly 6 months and I was a single, working mom during the week. I felt like I was constantly hurrying these 2 amazing, but easily distracted, boys up- to clean up their toys, get dressed, leave the house. Whatever… we seemed to be in a hurry a lot. When I am frazzled I forget things- like their names. So I constantly shouted things like “Come on Dude!” or “Lets get this show on the road Bubba!” or “What do you think you are doing little man?”
Anyway… one day after school. Our younger son (having just turned 2) came up to me and says, in the most serious of tones, “I NO ID!” To which I respond “You’re not Isaac?” and he says “NO!” So I say, “Who are you then?” He thinks about it for a minute and says “I’m Dude!”
I confirm “Dude?”
“Well then,” I ask, “Who is that?” as I point to his brother. Dude responds, “He no Henny!” I ask, “Well if he’s not Henry, who is he?” This has now become a serious matter to young Dude and he begins to concentrate and rub his chin. Finally Dude responds that his brother is now to be called “Bubba.”
Until recently Dude would correct me anytime I would use their Christian name. Now, the nicknames have stuck. Since we now live in small town America, the names actually fit. I can’t wait until they start school and tell the teachers they prefer to be called Bubba and Dude.
Names fascinate me. I love when a name has a good story behind it. Tell me how you got your name. Did you “rename” yourself? What was it and how long did it stick?