Name-Droppers

Nicknames. They're at once intimate and public, heavy with meaning to those in the know but nearly incomprehensible to outsiders.

And no matter what a certain occupant of the Oval Office might think, the best nicknames grow organically, not out of mere fiat or even the recipient's own desires. (Remember George's futile effort to become "T-Bone" in "Seinfeld"?)

In celebration of Father's Day, we asked you to tell us about the nicknames that were bestowed on you by your dad or which you, as a dad, bestowed on your own kids.

In return, dozens of you sent along notes, e-mails and faxes chronicling an -- trust us on this -- incredible variety of familial nicknames, sobriquets and monikers.

We received stories from sons and daughters, moms and dads, and a grandparent or two. And, we even got a few charming stories written by kids.

For each and every one of them we thank you.

We begin with TigerLily Slavin, 7, of Las Vegas, whose given name already is charming and unusual. But TigerLily loves having another name, too.

"My dada calls me Babu," she writes. "This is short for Babushka. He called me that when the nurse taught him how to wrap a baby in a blanket like a burrito. He said I looked like a babushka, which means 'grandma' or 'old lady' in Russian, (because) they always wrap their scarves around their head and body like the nurse did to me."

"From babushka came 'Babu.' He also calls me 'Baboodles,' 'Boodles' and 'The Great Babu.' I call him the 'Great Dadoo' sometimes, but mostly he is my greatest Dada," writes TigerLily of her dad, Marcus Slavin. "He's a really wacky guy, too."

Richard Miller of Las Vegas says his son, James, 19, was dubbed "Destroyer" because, as a toddler, "he wandered his way through the house. He pulled down every cord, breaking every lamp we had."

Oldest daughter Katrina, 18, meanwhile, has been "the Bean, Beana or mostly Beans" even before she was born.

"My wife had the first ultrasound done and she said that the baby looked like a bean in there," Miller explains. "That name stuck."

Daughter Rebecca, 16, dubbed "Bugs" or "The Bug," "would crawl around getting into things," Miller says, while Meghan, 14, has been called "Megabyte," "Meglett" ("kind of like 'Piglet' but different"), or, mostly, "Pie," the last a shortened form of "Meghan Pie."

And, oddly enough, Meghan's twin, Mary, used to be called "Mary Mouse," but hasn't been for many years, Miller writes. Now, she's merely, and a bit anticlimactically, just called "Mary."

David and Wendy Jo Knowles of Henderson have nicknames for their 2-year-old triplet sons that are based mostly on the boys'personalities.

Roger is called "Liquid" because "when he does not want to do something, he can turn his body into a liquid state and melt through your grasp," David writes. Porter is called "Crash" because "he seems to find every wall and cabinet ... with his head," and Luke, or "Hannibal," is "into the biting thing whenever he does not get his way."

Glen Stover -- nickname: Smokey -- of Las Vegas writes that when his second daughter, Dana, was 3 or 4, "she would always enthusiastically greet me when I came home by barreling into me, leading with her head. I had to brace and protect myself when I saw her coming."

So her nickname became "Hammer," Stover says, "because it felt like that when she collided with me.

"Dana is now a professor with the University of Idaho, but I still call her Hammer when she calls."

Brent Ellsworth of Las Vegas writes that, after having "three rambunctious little boys," he wasn't sure "how to handle the little bundle of pink that was handed to me in 1978."

But, before he knew it, "she had me wrapped around her little finger and had wormed her way into my heart. Thus was born the name 'Worm.' Today, beautiful and grown, Worm has been promoted to 'Big Worm' and my three beautiful granddaughters, who have also won over my heart, are affectionately called my 'Little Worms.'

"I love my sons and grandsons, but the icing on the cake of life has definitely been my Worms!"

Kurt Wuebbenhorst of Henderson admits that his biggest priority was making his sons' names "short and simple" because Wuebbenhorst "is long enough."

But Wuebbenhorst -- childhood nickname: Hoss, after the "Bonanza" character, because he was "the relative runt of the family" -- said his kids' nicknames came easily. Maxwell, 9, was "a fuzzy little spider monkey, and since 'Max the Spider' doesn't quite flow too well, 'Max the Monkey' was it."

In fact, he adds, "there is definitely a little Curious George in him even today."

And his other son, born in May 2002? "What else would I call Elvis," Wuebbenhorst writes, "but, 'The King.' "

Ed Fortin of North Las Vegas has carried an unusual nickname with him throughout his life.

Fortin writes that his dad "looked down at me in my crib 71 years ago and said, 'He looks just like a little pixie.' I guess it was my baby pointed ears or something."

Whatever the reason, "the name 'Pix' stuck, and to this day, relatives and old friends feel awkward when addressing me by my documented name, Ed. They know me as Pix, as did my teachers in grade school and high school."

Fortin admits he doesn't know whether his nickname is "a curse or a unique kind of identification blessing (like, 'A Boy Named Sue')."

Rudy Duran of Henderson recalls that his granddaughter, Jocelyn Gonzales, until the age of 2, "couldn't be without her binky (pacifier), so I used to tease her and the nickname (Binky) stuck."

Now 10, Jocelyn has turned the tables. She calls Duran "Bampie" and her grandma "Bunny."

So, Duran says, "We all have funny nicknames."

As a young girl, Jennifer Botzenhart of Las Vegas had a couple of nicknames bestowed upon her by her dad. One was "Rabbit," because, she suspects, "I was so small for my age, and when I was a baby, my hair was fuzzy just like a rabbit's."

Another was "Feffer Nutter" which, Botzenhart writes, came about "because my brother, when he was a toddler, could not say 'Jennifer.' He would say 'Feffer' (and) my dad added the 'Nutter' part. Until this day, every once in a while, he will still call me his little Feffer Nutter."

Which is, by the way, fine with her. "I really liked Feffer Nutter," she writes. "It just seemed to fit my personality of who I was and who I am today."

And, finally, Barbara Cooper of Las Vegas writes that her dad, who grew up during the Depression in a large immigrant family, always has had "a pretty happy-go-lucky outlook on life. Despite the difficulties his family faced, every story he ever told us makes his childhood sound like a never-ending series of fun and fabulous adventures."

There was no money for anything beyond the bare necessities, so the few toys her dad and his brothers had were homemade or others' discards. But, Cooper writes, her dad "loved kites, and he was forever pestering his older brothers to make them for him, so much so that it wasn't long before they started calling him 'Kite.' The name stuck and, although his name is Karl, to this day there are very few people who use that name or even know it."

To friends and family, he's "Kite," while to his nieces and nephews he's "Uncle Kite," Cooper says. Celebrating his 80th birthday this summer, "he still loves to fly kites with his grandchildren," Cooper adds.

And, she notes, "I'm happy to say that the name will continue to be part of our family for at least another generation: One of my brothers named his daughter Skyler Kite."

Contact reporter John Przybys at jprzybys @reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0280.