Here's the deal: I don't have Tumblr. I don't believe in it. I've caved to several social media sites, but Tumblr shall never be one of them. Therefore, I do not have a Tumblr name to explain. Seeing as this would be an extremely lame post if it ended there, I'll explain the meaning behind my Twitter name.
Twitter name = @samthesqueaker (feel free to follow me, I'm very boring)
The first part, Sam, is pretty easy to figure out. My full name is Samantha. My family calls me Sam. Rocket science? I think not. The squeaker part is usually what throws people. This is my solemn confession of tragic childhood frivolity.
My parents and I used to do "sqeakies" when I was younger. Under five-years-old younger. They'd pinch my bottom and say, "Squeakie!" This became one of my favorite games. The incident that later would go down in infamy has two sides. This is my side. If you're curious for another view, ask my parents.
I don't know how old I was, but old enough I barely remember. My parents were shopping around this store, and FROM MY MEMORY (again, this is so fuzzy) we were visiting my grandma. I would like to clarify that my status as being a bit of a troublemaker started quite early. As I was meandering around the store, I came across a woman who was bent over to examine some product. Seeing as she was bent over and I was tiny, she naturally looked like my grandmother from this angle. Nobody said toddlers used logic.
As you can imagine I reached right up, pinched her bottom, and let out a good, "SQUEAKIE!" Imagine my surprise when a very confused, not-grandma face turned around to greet me. I ran to my parents. The lady followed, and explained the situation. She was laughing (from what I remember and have been told) and was very good humored about it. This incident dubbed me Squeaker for quite some time. I haven't fully outgrown the nickname, so I'm learning to embrace it.
There you have it.
samthesqueaker
I hope it was everything you imagined it would be.
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