When I was getting Izzy out of the shower one day, I told him to hurry before he froze his noonies off. Chris and I had both said something along those line dozens of times before, but on this memorable occasion, Izzy suddenly covered up his privates. That's right, our son thinks our pet name for him means testicles. It probably didn't help that we sometimes call him noonie- pickle as well. I was fairly well horrified, but I had to test Sophie and see what she thought noonies were.
Next time she got out of the shower, I told her the same thing, and then I followed up with the question, "Hey, what do you think your noonies are?" She wiggled her toes. *Whew*
Our other nicknames for the kids run the gamut: lovel bubble, pookie, pookie bear, pookie nutter butter and the more normal honey, baby, etc. When Sophie was born, we all took to calling her Baby, which was a tad difficult to break when we had another baby in the house. We also call her Sophapilla, Love bug (Love is her middle name, so not a terribly creative pet name, I know), Sophie Banophie, and I'm sure a few more I can't think of right now.
Suzi we call Suzannah Banana, demon spawn (self explanatory if you've read my blog over the past 19 months), Suzi Bug, Cha Cha, poochie, poochie pop.
But my favorite nickname for her isn't one that Chris or I came up with, but one that Sophie gave her: Chicken. As in, "Watch out little chicken!," or "Come her, sweet little baby chicken," or "Hi chicken!," as she climbed into the van today after preschool. I love it.
I just hope they don't all have identity crises before they're 12.