We are a 1920s crime family. By name, anyway. There's Chubbs, of course, who got his name long before he was born because Chris was mumbling, and I thought he suggested Chubbs for a nickname instead of something a bit more conventional. However, once I revealed what I thought I heard, Chubbs stuck, much to my initial dismay and eventual amusement. It's even funnier now since there's absolutely nothing chubby about him; this is one long, skinny baby.
Then there's Slim. This obviously refers to Chris, who is 6'3" and 170 lbs. I figure Slim is nicer than Stringbean. He was the one who liked to remind me that I outweighed him when I was pregnant.
My name has a bit of a background. Slim and I like to play a version of Scrabble in which you cannot use any real words; all words have to be made up, but they have to make sense phonetically (no "jqxy," even if you can put it on a triple word score). After placing the word on the board, you have to give a definition and use the word in a sentence. I highly recommend this version of Scrabble - it's more fun than the original version, and it goes faster because you don't have to spend 15 minutes each turn trying to figure out how to make a real word with no vowels. One of the best words we have come up with so far is jugsy, meaning a large-breasted woman. And ever since Chubbs came along, I am the full embodiment of that word. So I am Jugsy.
The dog is Chompy, since he has a most bizarre habit of randomly chomping at the air. I think he's trying to tell me that we don't feed him enough. Suck it up, Chompy.