Nugget has always been called Nugget. All the nicknames I use on the blog are real. My poor children are actually called Doo Dah, Dew Drop, The Minx and Nugget in real life too.
When he was a little fella, Nugget was a very chubby bubby. He ate like a champion and did absolutely nothing to expend the energy. He had roll upon roll in that delightful way that babies do.
We called him the human speed hump as he parped around contemplating the world and his place in it. He was early to talk and late to walk and his Nuggety goodness clung to this thighs while he sat on his nappy-clad butt and whooped.
Nowadays Nugget is a far cry from being a chubby bub. He has just turned nine and is a string bean. Tall and thin in a boney way. He doesn't eat much, unless it is fried. If it is fried, he'll have a whole plateful. Needless to say, he doesn't eat a plateful all that often.
He asked me the other day, as he slid into his brother's size seven jeans, why he is called Nugget. "Is it because I love eating Nuggets?" he asked.
I told him he'd been Nugget well before he'd ever fallen in love with a nugget. I explained about his chunky baby goodness. After a bit he said, "You know Mum. I don't think I should be called Nugget anymore. I think I should be called Chip".
Meet Chip. Formerly Nugget. Aged 9. Loves reading, karate, Cubs and playing the trombone. Wants to be an author when he grows up (so he told his class in his recent Topic Talk). Pictured here with Uncle B while fishing at Husky. If you look carefully you might just spot the brim that he caught.