Before you read this you have to promise to refrain from the obvious jokes and comments that are most likely going to take place…promise?  Promise now?  Promise!DSC01218

I have always had a love for pigs.  How could I not given my formative years.  Let’s start off in April of 1963, April the 24th to be precise.  That is the day I ushered forth into this world.  All 10 pounds and 9 ounces of me.  My Mom told me the story about my auspicious birth.  Up until the day I was born they told my Mom and Dad they thought I was twins. 

I mentioned before that my family is large.  I am the next to the youngest of 7 children.  My mother had a miscarriage so I would be have been her 7th out of 8 had that child lived.  My family is Catholic and it was often said that Mom did it for the steak dinners!  We also prove that rhythm didn’t work!  But I digress…

My mother, evidently, had been in labor all day and didn’t realize it.  She went to the doctor for her appointment and he whisked her to the delivery room.  She wanted to call my Dad, but they said there was no time.  I was born and when she woke up they called my Dad.  He got there when I was in the nursery. 

My Dad wanted to name me Gloria.  My Mom wanted Cindy.  Since Dad was not there, I am guessing that Mom used her choice to name me.  Thank goodness Mom’s name won.  No offense to all the great Gloria’s out there, but I am not a Gloria.  Cindy fits me.  Depending on which baby name book you use it either means one coming from the ashes (as in Cinderella) or bringer of light.  I think both fit me well!

I was a complete Daddy’s girl and proudly had him wrapped around my little pinkie.  He and I went almost everywhere together.  Since I was always a chubby kid he nicknamed me Piggy.  Daddy’s Little Piggy to be precise.  I didn’t mind it at all and I loved it when he called me that when we were out and about in the world.

DSC01217 When I was little kids didn’t have to be in car seats or even seat belted so I often sat right beside Dad squished up so tight I don’t know how he drove.  Often I fell asleep on his thigh as he drove.  I didn’t care where we went as long as I was with my Dad.  All of my adventures with my Dad involved candy, songs, tickling and lots of laughs.  One of the first songs he sung to me was the Marine Corp Hymn followed by Gotta Girl in Every Port.  I guess the Marines didn’t sing kiddie songs! 

When I went to high school there was a different nickname I was given.  It was the one they gave my little brother, the football player, HAM.  I was Ham’s sister.    To be fair, the first 3 letters of my last name are H-A-M.  I didn’t like that name.  Piggy is cute.  Piggy is fun…Ham is NOT!  I guess the part I protested the most is that it was a cast off name.  I was invisible to them and I was there FIRST

Oh well, such is my association with the other white meat.  Do you have a nickname?  How did you get it?

The lovely pictures in this post are courtesy of my custom made scarf by Syko.  I contacted her to ask if she could translate one of her designs onto a scarf for me.  She embroidered Piggy on it freehand after I shared with her that was the nickname my Dad gave me.  How cute is my new scarf!