Bugs

            Don Ciccio: “I see you took the name of the town. What was your father's name?”

            Vito Corleone: “Antonio Andolini.”

            Don Ciccio: “You'll have to speak up. I can't hear you”

            Vito Corleone: “My father's name was Antonio Andolini... and this is for you.” Vito stabs him.

            Godfather II

            During his bout of roundworms, I nicknamed Vito “Bugs.”

            One day, Nick meant to call Vito “Buddy,” but he was thinking “Budster.” Out came “Butter.” Now that’s what Nick calls him.

            Beth dubbed him the affectionate “Vitino,” or “Little Vito” in Italian.  Bello!

            To Christina, he’s “Vito the Guido.” The situation here is, she watches too much “Jersey Shore.” 

             Brian just calls him “Baby.”

            Vito’s a good sport, he responds to all his pet names.

            I know how that is. My name has always been mispronounced and misread. 

            Growing up, I tried to become Anne, to cut down on length and Italian-ness. But my mother said, “If I wanted to name you Anne, I would have named you Anne. I named you Annemarie, all one word. Tell people you want to be called Annemarie.”

            (My mother had no sympathy. Her name was Palma. She married my father, Ennio. She told me I should consider myself lucky with the name I got because before I was born my father pushed hard to name me after his mother, Philomena. Fanny, for short.)

            So I’ve always been Annemarie, but not really, since people always got my name wrong. I’ve been called Mary Ann, Jo Ann, Maria, Anna Maria and Annie. One math teacher in tenth grade used to call me Mary Ann Starr, to which I obediently answered.

            And don’t even get me started on my last name, Schiavi, which means “slaves” in Italian.

            Like Vito, I’ve had my share of nicknames, including “Anna Maria Alberghetti” and “That Girl” after the Marlo Thomas character.

            When I got married, it was to Brian Pedersen, not Bryan Peterson.  I thought I was hip, so I hyphenated my last name. I became Annemarie Margaret Schiavi-Pedersen -- a mouthful.

            I’m always asked to spell my name. As I pronounce each letter, the name-taker begins to pale. I can tell she’s thinking, “Will this name never end?” There’s always a comment afterward: “That’s quite a long name you have there.” I always answer the same: “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

            And my name takes forever to write, so I’ve taken shortcuts -- maybe too many. When Brian and I refinanced our home, the bank listed about 12 incarnations of my name. The first was my official name, after that, the rest were designated with the outlawlike AKA, or Also Know As.

            Vito has a good attitude about his nicknames. He has indicated that we can call him what we want, as long as we don’t call him late for puppy chow.