What’s in a name?

It seems that an embarrassing nickname is a right of passage. Growing up, I had no shortage of such things. I swear my dad had a new one for me each week. There was “Blondie” (not very imaginative but accurate for a tow-headed little girl), “Bootsie” (there’s a story of some fabulous red velvet boots I will share another time), “Sis” (this was – actually still is – his fallback so he didn’t call one of us by the wrong name), and “Dandelion Max” (this one needs some explaining).

I was an adorable little girl (there’s no room for humility when speaking the truth). Perfect amount of chubbiness. Perfect amount of smiles. Unfortunately, my hair (what I had of it) grew in a wild, downy fluff. My poor, poor mother. She tried slicking it down and pinning bows in it. There were desperate moments of her attempting to polish me into a perfect little girl (this was some total foreshadowing…too bad she didn’t catch on). No amount of water, hairspray, spit, you name it, was able to tame my head of so called hair. I flew wild and my hair was my co-pilot. (See picture for visual confirmation.)

774e…see what I mean about adorable?

My family started feeling a tug of deja vu when looking at my gloriously wild hair. Then it hit them – DANDELIONS! That’s exactly what my hair looked like. The creation of a nickname had begun. I have the fortune (?) of looking just like my father (just what every girl wants – to take after her Mr. Clean look-a-like father….love you, Dad 😊). In fact, they considered me a mini-me of my father. Can you guess what his name is? Yep. MAX. If you didn’t guess his name, you really need to evaluate your awareness skills. Thus an epic nickname was born: Dandelion Max. Fortunately, as I got older, my dad stuck with “Blondie” or “Bootsie” (though I don’t know that Bootsie is much better than Dandelion Max). Unfortunately, even though I grew out of the nickname, my hair did not change. It still is a soft, fluffy, wild, downy head of hair. All I know is the creator of hairspray is a GOD. I think my purchases alone keep my favorite brand a float.

So, why use Dandelion Max as a blog name? I’m finally at the point in my life where I’ve realized that I’m weird…awkward…different. No need to pretty it up and call myself unique. I’m okay with weird. Different is good. In a world where everyone is trying to fit in with each other, I’m just trying to fit in with myself. I have embraced (at least I’m working on it) my awkwardness and my nickname seems to sum all of that up.

I guess the only thing left to add is a disclaimer. There will be posts that bore you to death, shock you speechless, leave you confused, cause you irritation, and hopefully a few that make you smile. Here’s the deal: I’m writing for me but sharing it with you. So, read at your own risk.

Dandelion Max…out

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