Nicknames

Someone asked me the other day if I had a nickname. Immediately, I thought back to my childhood days and said, “Bones” or “Nose”. Let me explain.

Bones: Growing up, I was skinny. I know, I know, I’m still skinny. What I’m talking about is really skinny. Standing in front of the mirror, a clear view of my ribs was possible. Hip bones stuck out farther than my chest, and my arms and legs looked like pencil sticks. From the age of 8, I was known around my circle of friends as “Bones”. During Halloween, a skeleton hung on our front door, and when anyone in our family saw it, they affectionately called it “Val”. Still, 23 years later, my family calls me “Bones”.

Nose: I was also known as the neighborhood watch. I could be seen, on any given day, peeking out the blinds in my room to see what was happening at the neighboring houses. I knew exactly when everyone got home from work, when they went out for dinner, when the kids got home from school, when the babysitters came over, when someone would go shopping, when the teenage boys next door brought girls over, and when someone brought home a new car. I knew everything about everything.  Our neighborhood was full of kids, so there were always people around. I would stay up late just to watch the people outside. To say the least, I was nosey.

One day, my nosiness paid off. An old friend turned enemy of mine, pulled up to my house, got out of his car, and quickly walked to my stepdads truck, punctured one of the tires, and drove off. Grrr. I was so irritated, and couldn’t WAIT to tell my parents.

Maybe in my next life, I’ll be a spy.