Growing up, I was always Bobby. I was good with that until June 6, 1968. From then on out, I was Bob. The only exception were family members who never adapted. Oh, my high school classmates still called me by my ubiquitous nickname of Elmo.
Thus I went by Bob for years and years. Then I met Sandy. For some reason, from the first time we met, she always called me Robert. It wasn’t because she was against nicknames; after all she went by Sandy instead of Sandra. When I asked her, she always said was because I was Robert.
Now, I am not sure whether my Robert days are over, to be replaced by Bob again. If it is, I miss being Robert.
