Wednesday, February 28, 2007

The Birth of Bubba

My son’s identity has changed since the birth of his
sister. He is no longer referred to by
name when my daughter is around. He is
affectionately known as “Bubba.” This
was not intentional. Nicknames such as
this never are. It just came about in a
natural progression when my daughter was learning to speak. “Bubba” is much easier to say than
“Truman.” My son was quite resistant to
it at first but has embraced his new name with gusto, using it to get his
sister to follow his directions and live by his strict dictatorship. He will take her by the hand and say, “Let
Bubba show you how to do it.” or “Follow Bubba.” He has found that using his new name is a much more effective
method for getting his sister to do what he wants. 

I never thought I would have a family member that I referred
to as “Bubba.” It existed in the same
realm of possibilities as my husband and son attending a Monster Truck
Rally. It was inconceivable. It is funny how things can change when you
have children. Everything does. It is impossible to avoid. We live in East Tennessee. My husband plans on going to a Nascar Race
with some friends every year. I recently
purchased a mini replica of the “Grave Digger” and my son has dropped his
relatively uncommon, fairly noble name in favor of a name that evokes images of
a good ol’ Southern boy driving a pick-up truck with a “#3-God Needed a Driver”
bumper sticker on it. “Bubba,” however, is here to stay. My daughter lights up when she hears that


  1. I am, quite simply, beside myself, I laughed so hard, I fell off my desk chair, this is the best yet in the saga of the transplanted Hale clan, and, yes, proof of reverse evolution, when my parents escaped the then depressed South some 51+ years ago, I thought they left behind the Bubbas, the Billie Waynes, the Joe Bills, the R.P.s, the Robert Js, and, yes, the Dale Emersons, now, thank you ever so much sweet Tater, Bubba is back!!! God Bless America, and now we have to start teaching him some Hank Williams songs, get that boy some banjo lessons!!! Great-Grandpa can teach him how to grow his own 'baccor, and how to make a twist for chewin' IT NEVER ENDS!!!

  2. I knew you'd enjoy having a grandchild named "Bubba" more than anyone else, Papa Dale!