Clara wanted to read her new book Clara and Asha before bedtime. As I’m bringing it over to the bed, she says, “Next time when I’m a baby, I don’t want you to name me Clara. I don’t like that name any more. I want you to name me something else.”
Me: “Oh yeah? What do you think we should name you?”
“Mara.”
“But there’s already a Mara. Don’t you think we’d get confused if there were two Maras?”
“How about Zachary?”
“That’s interesting.”
Clara (looking at her giraffe slippers): “OK. Giraffe. Because I like giraffes.”
“You want me to call you Giraffe from now on?”
“Yes. And I think there should be a remote control, to make you go from a kid to a baby to a grownup. Bbbbreeeeep! [she makes a remote control sound effect, while crouching down onto the floor] I’m a baby! Bbbbreeeeep! Look, am I big now?”
After that, we read “Clara and Asha” without incident. She loves the book. And who wouldn’t love a book whose main character (with one’s erstwhile name) has a friend who is a giant, silver fish who floats through the air?
