One of my best childhood memories is of waiting for my dad to get home from work. We lived in a white house in Florida (we would see alligators in the ditches there), and my dad worked on the Church Ranch. He is a big, tall man...and we had nicknames for each other. He was "giant" and I was "midget". I'd say "Hiiii, giant!" and he'd say "Hey you, little midget!"
He still calls me midget to this day. It used to be about stature. Now, at 5'11", it's mostly about the memory.