Why Tater Tales?
Well, it’s not easy coming up with a name when you are creatively challenged. There are so many witty folks out here in blogland with such clever names. Some of the names alone make me laugh right out loud.
I really wanted to come up with something catchy — a play on words or something, but everything ended up being way too long, and by the time I’d narrowed it down to something, called to my husband, “How about this one,” I’d forgotten the idea. I’m no expert at this, but if you can’t remember your own blog name, I’m pretty sure you’re shooting yourself in the foot.
Finally, after seriously considering the name ohforpete’ssakeiforgotitagain, my husband suggested Tater Tales. I thought about it for a while, decided that it’s one that I could remember, and — to no one’s surprise — the name was NOT taken.
Well, here’s the deal.
After we brought our son home from the hospital a couple of years ago and the hubs went back to work, I spent most of those first few days alone with this nine-pound bundle simply holding him and staring at him, touching his soft, brand-new skin and whispering, “I love you,” about 17 gazillion times. Of course, that was in between all the crying and sniffing and snorting and “I just can’t believe it” moments. We didn’t think he’d ever happen to us, you see. And then he did happen to us, and we were (and still are) completely in love with him.
A couple of days later, I was finally used to the sweet little sounds he made — those gurgles and squeaks. And, please forgive my manners, but even his little toots sounded sweet! I thought everything about him was sweet, sweet, sweet. And one day I just started calling him my sweet potato.
Mama’s little sweet potato! Oh, I had a little nickname for him, and I thought it was precious. Preh-shuhs, y’all! I couldn’t wait to tell the hubs about it and see his face because I just KNEW he would love it. How could he NOT love it? You got the part about it being PREH-SHUHS, right?
He came home from work, and I was giddy as I said something like, “Daddy, do you want to hold our little sweet potato? That’s his new little nickname! Isn’t it perfect?”
He just stared at me, and then I think I actually heard him gag.
A while later, because he likes to make fun of me a little bit and he knew it would just crawl all over me, he started calling our son Sweet Tater, and then he dropped the first part and just uses Tater.
I still call our little boy by my original nickname, you know — the preh-shuhs one — but it takes longer to type and so does Sweet Potato Mama, blah, blah, blah.
Plus, it IS hard to resist referring to a little one as Tater Tot.
Lo and behold, another little potato appeared on the vine in May 2009. We call him Small Fry. (He’s growing so fast, though, that one reader suggested we call him Tater Wedge. Good one, huh?)