A Rose by Any Other Name

Most nights, as we are both settling in to bed for the night, Saffron, licking her coe-woe, lapses into her thoughful trance. With her eyes still wide open, she's physically there, snuggled up next to me, but her thoughts are miles away. Very often the most obscure memories are recalled and sometimes if I'm lucky enough, she shares them with me.

Last night, she broke the pensive (her), drowsy (me; on flu medication) silence with a "Mummy? Why did you name me Saffron and not Cinderella?". Even in my drugged-out stupor, I could tell she was dead serious. So I muttered something about Saffron being easier to call out, being 2 syllables shorter than Cinderella; how she looks more like a Saffron than a Cinderella (I don't think she took very well to this point); Daddy and I don't really like the name Cinderella, we far prefer Sleeping Beauty, as a matter of fact; and most important of all, now that she's about to start Reception Year in September, Saffron is much easier to spell and write than Cinderella.

Just as I was about to fall smugly back into my pillow, thinking I had fielded the question quite well, all things considered, Saffron declared, "I am going to change my name to Saffron Cinderella. Call me Saffron Cinderella, Mummy."