I get called Bob a lot, & don't mind at all. Unfortunately I wound up w a lot of Bob friends, & it'd've been more convenient if some of us were called Robert, others Bob, maybe a Rob or Bobby or even Bobo, to distinguish us. Sometimes one calls here, "Bob, this is Bob, may I speak to Bob?"
In my immediate family I was always Robert (except for the brief period my baby sister called me 'Obby; much later our dog as channeled by Daddy called me 'Obby), but my cousins named Robert were always Bobs or Bobbies to us. Meanwhile those cousins were Roberts in their immediate families but I was Bobby to them.
Somehow I didn't think you would mind being called Bob, you seeming to be so laid back and all. If I was you, what with all the other Bobs, Bobbies and Roberts, and such, I'd insist on being called
THE Bob!, although 'Obby is definitely a fun nickname!
Interesting, or perhaps not to most, but to this day I refer to my sis as Shell because I couldn't pronounce Michele as a kid. Always fun to remember asking my sister to pass the eggs when at the breakfast table, as in, "can you pass the egg, shell?" *a hint for those of us who may need a moment to catch up...we were NOT eating eggshells* Silly and uninteresting for most, I know...but it's a fond story for me.
In all fairness and in keeping with the theme of this thread, I will now recall that the table and chairs where we sat in the kitchen as a family was set atop some very cheap and cracked linoleum flooring. When I would get bored with the horrible, HORRIBLE powdered eggs and milk, or even when I would get in trouble, I would hide under the table hoping for something better to eat or that I'd somehow be forgotten in some fit of luck lol. It was under that table that I'd look for the random patterns you can find in that type of flooring (like faces and clouds and such.) Most of the time I imagined finding some rather disturbing demons that I thought would somehow get me someday. What an imagination!
Thanks y'all, for indulging me in my telling of such a meaningless story, but memories and how time changes them are interesting. Someone somewhere (not here) said that "remember when" stories are the most boring and pointless.
fuck them