Birth: Origins of the Nick

You may not know me now...

But if you have the patience to keep reading, you will find this widely desired yet so rarely obtained information. My life began humbly like anyone else's-- in the womb. For many weeks I was smaller than a grain of rice, but i had a deep, inherent desire to become more, so I began to divide my cells, becoming bigger and stronger. In due time I was born in a common hospital in a suburban neighborhood of Atlanta, Georgia.

This is what I looked like:

Due to increasing inhospitality of local neighborhoods, as well as horrifyingly boring and predictable weather year-round, my parent-guardians decided to move back to their hometown of good ol' Omaha, Nebraska. It is during this time that my grandfather on my father's side (whom we refer to as "papa") introduced me to one of society's most abhorred foods of all time: black licorice, the really dark stuff, thus bequeathing me with an eternal appreciation for the stuff.
It is also around this time that I discovered my legs, and began to wreak havoc upon the household with all that I could muster. Even though I could not yet stand on my own, once stood up by my parents, I would refuse to sit back down again. To satisfy my own need to move as well as the life insurance agent's suggestions, my parents gave me shoes with bells on them. These shoes were hypnotic, and hours were spent kicking and jingling away in a chair, examining the strange devices that had made my feet disappear into thin air, replaced by sheaths of fuzzy red, complete with shinny metallic musical spheres.
And that's just the first year and a half. Wait till you here more...