The other day, I took my daughter Cali shoe shopping. When we entered the door, I was ‘Daddy.’ By the time we left, I was ‘Dad.’ Just like that — eight days before Cali’s tenth birthday, she decided it was high time to call me Dad.

My heart.

I’ve taken it in stride, if I do say so myself, though I am very attached to Daddy (just as I once was attached to Dada). ┬áThankfully my three-year-old still calls me Daddy (and in Spanish, Papi), among other terms of endearment.

I’ve already written a well received post on the pernicious impact of deliberately hurtful name-calling. Cali and I follow on with that theme, and she offers pearls of wisdom on how to combat bullies who engage in such behavior. But we also delve, in this new Socrates Cafe exchange on video, into the process of naming itself, and how it is part and parcel of ‘human beinging.’