My fun-loving mother so sweetly nicknamed me Conrad when I was oh-so-little. I recently asked her why and she honestly can't remember other than she knew I hated it proclaiming "I NOT CONRAD!" Much teasing went on in our house. We were merciless with the teasing. Conrad would get to me, but there was one name, two simple little words (or just the acronym would do), that you didn't dare utter unless you wanted to start the WWIII....
C.B. eerrrr. I shutter to think of it! it stands for.... sigh... Cry Baby. argh!
C.B., C.B., you're a C.B. .......evil. evil. evil.
And, I WAS the baby in the house. the youngest of two... But, it wasn't just me that these words could bring to a boiling temper tanterum, oh no! not just me. :) Right Nache? Yes, my sister couldn't bare to be called a C.B. either. We were all awful in the teasing department. I beleive this is where I learned to find a lot of humility.
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Whenever you write about your childhood, I wish I had been more present.
ReplyDeleteMe too, Leslie. I mean I know I was there for most of it, but wasn't as "present" as I could have been. CB was a classic! Love your blog little sis, thanks for the trip down memory lane. I liked the newer stories too - Ben Franklin and bladders, lol. Remember my friend Polly? Well she thought Africa was a country and Delaware the capitol of Europe (also a country). Shit you not! lol
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