Everyone on this blog has a nickname except me—what’s up with that? They delayed giving me my real name, too. 9 months to think about it, and they still needed 24 more hours. Parents!
So I took this blog nickname thing into my own hands, and I went with the obvious here, folks. This isn’t rocket science. Even before I was swimming around in Mom’s stomach, they called me “FB”. No, not that FB (social media giant). It stood for “FutureBaby” because they always hoped I’d arrive on the scene at some point. But then I became a reality and they kept calling me FB—maybe they could have changed it to NowBaby or something, but old habits die hard.
Now, really, who wants “baby” as part of their nickname? Not me! So I devised a clever plan to communicate from within the womb. My parents were obviously stuck on FB, so I had to work with them. Every day, as much as possible, I’d turn sideways in Mom’s stomach—my head and arms pointing out to one side, my bottom and feet to the other. It was baby sign language at its best, but no one was getting it. Finally, just a couple of weeks before I made my grand entrance, some Einstein figured it out—“Football! He looks like a football in her stomach. That’s what we could call him! And it goes with FB!” Geniuses I tell you.
Hi, I’m Football, pleased to meetcha’. You can call me FB if you want to.