Saturday, July 11, 2009

Betsy Wetsy And A Little Girl Named Nosey

When I was a kid I had a nickname that was only used by my family. Well actually, I had two, and one was Lucy. I don't know why I was given this nickname but my best guess is that one day my mother in fits of exasperation over something that I had done could not remember my real name and just said whatever name came to mind, and Lucy was what popped in her head, and it stuck. From the time that I was about four years old and even until today, my mom will still call me or refer to me as Lucy; when she does this I answer and the family knows who she is referring to. I often wonder if this is where I got the name for my dog, Lucy? I digress, anyhoo, my other nickname and how I got it is more interesting.

Here is the story of how Nosey was born. It all started when I was about five years old and my mom needed to get me out of the house so she could wrap my sister Debbie' s and my Christmas presents. My mom enlisted my dad with the task of getting me out of the house for an hour so that Christmas could be wrapped up and tied with pretty bows. Ever the cleaver guy, my dad, one Saturday morning told me he he really needed my help with a very important chore but he was worried that I might not be smart enough to help. Really? Me, not smart enough to help; Yeah right! Here is a bit of the exchange between me and my dad.

Dad: Hey Lucy ya wanna help your ole dad out?

Me: Sure Daddy.

Dad: Well, I don't know if you can, I'm not sure if you're smart enough.

Me: Yes I am, yes I am, Daddy plez leme elp you.

Dad: Okay, but first I need to know if you know your ABC's

Me: U-huh I know em, I can mber them; A, B, C, D, L M, O, P, F Q, U, Y, Z,

Dad: Well, that's pretty good, but I don't know, you seem to be missing a few letters.

Me: Oh Daddy, plez, plez, plez leme elp.

Dad: Okay. This is what I need you to do for your ole dad, see all these tools, I need you to put them in the shed for me, and I need you to put them on the shelves in A, B, C order. Understand?

Me: U-huh...I put the hammer on the shelf first, then I put the box of nails on the shelf, and then...

Dad: You got it, now finish this up and come get me when you are done; I'll be over there at the pool cleaning it.

I eagerly set to the task of arranging my dad's tools alphabetically, and was quite proud of myself; hammer, box of nails, some screws, and oh wait what's this?.....A big box wrapped in pretty Christmas paper and tied with a bow under the shelf. Hmmmm I thought, this must be for me. With all the excitement and anticipation of a five year old I opened the big pretty wrapped box; rather I tore into it and to my five year old hearts delight I found a Betsy Wetsy; this one had reddish hair kind of like my own, and she could pee after having water or milk poured into her mouth. I was soooooo excited, I had been wanting, begging, and praying for a Betsy Westy, and had even asked Santa for it when I sat on his lap. I jumped up and down and ran around in circles, and then ran to the pool to find my dad and to show him what I found....."Look Daddy, I found my Besty Wetsy that Santa brought".

You should have seen the look on my dad's face; a cross between holding back a fit of chuckles and trying to be serious. My dad, while trying not to bust up laughing came over and knelt down to me and said, "Sorry Lucy, this is not your Betsy Wetsy, she belongs to another little girl that I know. What? At that moment I had heard my daddy utter to most cruel words ever; "another little girl I know". I calmly asked; "What other little girl, Daddy?" I'm the only little girl you know, so who does MY Betsy Wetsy belong to? After what seemed like forever, my dad looked at me and said....."She belongs to a little girl named Nosey".

On Christmas morning that year I opened the last of the presents, the one that was in a big box and wrapped with a pretty bow, and it was from Santa. To my delightful and honest surprise I found beneath the pretty wrapping paper my very own Betsy Wetsy. I looked at my dad and squealed with little girl excitement, "Look Daddy, a Betsy Wetsy just like Nosey's!

For years, at least until I was 11, I believed that there was another little girl that my dad knew who's name was Nosey....It took a long time for me to figure out that I was Nosey. I was such a gullible kid! Sweet natured, but gullible.


  1. BRAVA!!!!!!!!

    applause, applause, applause...


    And why do I feel that if you and I had been kids together, we'd be getting ourselves into LOT'S of "nosey trouble" together??" I loved going through everyone's dresser drawers when they out of the house.

    Believe it or not, I always wanted a Betsy Wetsy too! I was fascinated that a doll could PEE! My sister got one for Christmas one year and I was SOOOOO jealous. The little bitch!

    And speaking of BITCHES....I HOWLED when I read the quote from Joan Crawford that you left. And for all I know about Joan, I had never heard that one, so THANK YOU!!!

    Really enjoyed this post, FG!

  2. That was a sweet sweet post. My dad nicknamed me "punkin" and he still calls me that.

  3. My mother called me Nosey Rosey. But I don't remember how I got the name. I should probably ask her one day.

    Great story! I love how you believed in another girl named Nosey. So funny!

  4. Argh, I just love the innocence of kids. Can you imagine doing the same when you were fourteen?!! As a child I would have been just as gullible. As a 14yr old I think I'd have thrown it back at him ;0))

  5. Congratulations! This post has earned "Post of the Week" honors (including a link) over at Maugeritaville. E-mail me if you'd like the official badge to display on your site.

  6. Ron, I used to do the same thing. I would look in my sisters drawers all the time; the stuff I would find, WOW! The two of us toghether looking for nosey trouble would have been loads of fun.

    I hope your sister let you play with her Betsy Wetsy. I named mine Dororthy I as was so facinated with her...she could pee!

    Theresa, I love it when my dad calls me Nosey. There is something special in the way a dad uses a nickname with a child...I get all goose-bumpy.

    Beth, not only did I believe there was another little girl named Nosey, I went looking for her. One day I spent my whole day knocking on the neighbours doors and asking if Nosey was home; I wanted to play.

    Eternally, I was so gullible I was almost stupid. And yes the innocence of kids just warms my heart...I wish we could hold onto some of it as we grow older.

    Chris, OMG,OMG, OMG! Thank you! I will proudly post the badge at the top of my page. I'm all giggly right now...I have the post of the week...YIPPEE!

  7. What a sweet story. Silly, nosy girl!

  8. Love it! It was like a little movie was going on in my head as I read it. Great save by your dad.... or do you think he secretly had a love child named Nosy? Nah! Sounds like you're his love child.