Goose.

Silly Goose.  Silly Goose Muffin.  Goose Muffin.  Goose.  Goosey Girl.  

A progression of nicknames so long and winding that the last barely resembles the first at all is long-standing tradition in my family.  It gives me an odd sense of joy when someone asks, “where did that name come from?” and I have to stop and think about it for a minute.  I had my share of this type of name growing up, some so unusual that I couldn’t even attempt to type them out, and one that still hangs on and makes appearances from time to time.  Nicknames are important to my family, very important.  Everyone who is loved must have one.  Which is why it ate at me just a little bit that I mostly called my daughter Annabelle for the first three years of her life.  I’m not kidding, there were moments every week that I felt sad to call her by her given name, as if it implied that we were not close enough to have an “inside name” that only we understood.

Of course part of the problem in landing on a nickname for her is that she is a bit insistent on being called Annabelle.  Can I call you Annie?  “NO.  I’M ANNABELLE.”  The same response could be received with any and all possible shortenings of her given name.  There are so many that I was certain we’d land on one.

Thinking back now, I suppose the Goose thing started about a year ago.  Sam would do something goofy and we’d refer to him as “Cray-Cray.”  (Is that how you spell the formerly on-trend version of crazy?)  When Annabelle would do something goofy, we’d refer to her as a silly goose.  And because my brain works this way, that would sometimes morph into silly goose muffin.  

And before I knew it, we had a bit of personal slang in our home.  Being called  a Goose or a Muffin or Goose Muffin were independently and interchangeably understood to mean that someone was being goofy.

Occasionally we were using the terms for other people, but they were primarily applied to my girl.  And I’m not quite sure how, but within the last few months it all began to click.  While we all still understand the history of the name, I know call her Goose without implying that anything particularly silly is going on.  

I use Goose instead of her name and she responds.

Mission accomplished, nickname achieved.

Of course there are derivations that pop up from time to time, My Goose and Goosey Girl being the most common.  And I’m sure that, given enough time and enough freedom by the name-bearer, it will morph again.  But for now I am happy.  She is happy.  And there is better balance in the world.