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It occurs to me that Father’s Day is as much about sons as it is about fathers.

My first Father’s Day as both finds me thinking not only of my dad, but also of my infant son, Zachary.

There is so much to ponder. Is he warm enough? Is that cough just a bug that kids get or something more serious? How will I pay for college?

What will Zachary be when he grows up? An astronaut? A brain surgeon? An astronaut who performs brain surgery in space?

Will he be the next Tiger Woods? Or will he have to settle for being the next Phil Mickelson?

Will he play center field and bat cleanup for the New York Yankees? Even if he winds up merely playing center field and batting cleanup for the San Antonio Marlins, I’ll be satisfied as long as he’s happy — and able to support his parents in the manner in which they hope to become accustomed.

And mainly I wonder, as all fathers do, what will be his nickname?

A good nickname is as important as a winning smile in life. It can make or break you on first impression. It can breed familiarity and stave off contempt.

But the nickname game has gotten more complicated since the days of dubbing every red-headed kid “Red,” every skinny kid “Slim,” every kid from Texas “Tex” and every heavy kid, well, “Slim.”

Pro sports and rap music have conspired to raise the bar on nicknames.

In a world with T.O., T Mac, Snoop Dogg and Shaq, Dusty and Jimbo just don’t cut it anymore.

We’ve been trying out a few nicknames for Zachary. Pretty standard stuff, based on his given name. Zach, Baby Zach, Z, BZ, BZB Busy Bee. Application of the de rigueur nickname formula yields Z Bat.

But will those be good enough in the fast-evolving world of nicknames? Better to have options, based on the attributes and talents Zachary has exhibited in his first six months on Earth.

Zachary is a pleasant baby, with big, bright eyes and a ready grin. Maybe Happy Zach, Smiles Davis or Buddy Smiles.

On occasion, though, he is less agreeable. A regular Cry Cobb. The Prince of Wails. The Great White Wail.

He has acquired a few skills, which suggest nicknames of their own. Squirmy McDermitt, Jim Kick, Kicks Brooks, Zach the Gripper, Buster Grab.

His strong suit is his mastery of the various bodily functions for which babies are well-known. Poopie LeDeaux, J. Pee Morgan, Magnum Pee I, Pee Diddy.

Zachary enjoys a good meal. Formula Face, Bottle Jockey, Hungry Zach, Eater Nero, Thirst-on Howell III.

Although, his table manners leave a bit to be desired. The Burpinator, Tom Drooley, Slobbering Bob, Binkie Breath.

His healthy appetite leaves him with a physique that hints at other apt monikers. Buddah Belly, Chubby Cheekers, Baby Fats Domino, George Plumpton.

He’s so round, he evokes the memory of Dan Blocker’s famous TV cowboy. Hoss would make a good nickname, if only there were something babies do that rhymes with Cartwright.

After a good meal, Zachary is likely to seek respite in his favorite bassinet and take on another of his alter egos. Merrill Sleep, Al Snore, Nap-olean Bonaparte, The Lyin’ King.

Waking refreshed, Zachary launches into a discussion of the events of the day. Using a language we call Zachanese, he becomes The Mad Chatter, John Cooer Mellencamp, Remington Squeal.

Zachary is not yet ambulatory, so nicknames like Speedy and Flash will have to wait. For now he’s John Carry or Captain Car Seat.

No one envisions their child as a villain, but a couple of notorious names from the past come to mind when studying babbling, developing Zachary. Silly the Kid. John Wilkes Tooth.

He’s been called His Royal Cuteness, the Mobile Gnome, Diaper Dan, Hurricane Zach and Zach Armstrong — All American Boy.

But ultimately, it will not be the pet names we dream up today that will define Zachary. Rather it will be the dreams and ambitions he rises to meet in all of his tomorrows.

Then, as now, I’ll be proud to call him Son.

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E-mail Brent Batten at bebatten@naplesnews.com.