When thinking of names for our first two kids, part of the appeal of “Alden” and “Kato” was that they were names that didn’t have obvious nicknames. I wanted their names to be their names, solid and resistant to attempts to shorten or soften them with diminutive versions. But for some reason, I was drawn to “August” in spite of the fact that I knew it was subject to considerable erosion, “Augie” or “Gus” being the most likely candidates. Perhaps it’s because I’m so fond of the sound of “Augie” and not opposed to the feel of “Gus.”

When he was born, I was among the first to depart from “August” in moments of extreme affection.

But I had no idea at the time how quickly I would settle on a third alternative that I’m sure he hopes will not persist into his teenage years: The Woggler. It seems to suit him perfectly.

To me, The Woggler evokes both friendliness and whimsy.

Affability and cheer.

The Woggler is content to just relax.

But do not let him fool you. The Woggler is more than capable of mischief.

And  just like his papa, the Woggler is is easily distracted when food is near.

My experience with the Woggler has not changed my feelings about the other two kids’ names. Alden is an Alden and Kato is a Kato. But August is a Woggler, through and through.

I can’t explain it any better than that and so I will not try.