How I wound up with a child called Bubba
April 9th, 2015
We call my son Bubba. Or, more frequently, Bubby.
I can hardly even bring myself to write those words. Seriously? Bubba? What’s happened to you, Kate? For all its charm, clearly small town life is corrupting your brain.
Hear me out.
I always hated that particular nickname for little boys. I thought it sounded ridiculous and unspeakably redneck.
But that was before my small man had a baby sister who tried valiantly to say “brother” but managed only “buh-buh.”
At which point that ridiculously awful nickname became forever adorable.