Every child needs a "pet" name growing up. Mine was Squeak. My husband's was Skeeter. The thing about these kinds of nick names, is that you can't rush or force them. They just have to come easily, and then they'll stick.
Occasionally, my creative and sensitive husband (who has posted on this blog several times), will contribute to my grandmother's writer's group. She sent him a list of their weekly topics, and every now and then, if he has something to write, he will. A few weeks ago, the topic was simply, "sprout," and my husband sent the group this sweet haiku:
Sprout- how fast you grew
First snow, first thaw, each brand new
Son, look; I'll show you