I always thought we were pretty normal.
Parents divorced. When I was about 10 one of my mother's friends gave her a cat for a gift. This was some persian, himalayan, high-bred showcat. It was supposably a big deal. I remember being told to not shoot my slingshot (I bought it in concan and was lethal with it), at the showcat.
My mom named the cat "Fancy." Whatever, keep your cat away from my slingshot and we'll all get along fine.
Yesterday (over thirty years later) my wife asked my mother "what were the names of pets you had with your children growing up?" She's trying to find a pet name and was just making small talk with my mom.
Mom responds with all the names over the years and adds in "Fantasy." I said "WTF?" And she responded "We called the cat "Fancy" for a nickname, but her real name was "Fantasy."
Mom, you're weird, I'm embarrassed for us all, and no wonder I had those awkward years - I'm sure all of my friends' parents told them to stay the fuck away from our place because you were sick.