When I was growing up in 1970's we used to call the parents of our friends Mr. or Mrs. [Last Name]. We wouldn't dream of calling them by any other name; we didn't even dare to dare one another to do so as the result would likely redden our behinds. The only exceptions were my parent's friends who were single. For them, is was somehow OK to address them by their first names and we were happy to oblige - but this, I remind you, was an exception, not the rule. These days much has changed. We today want more than ever to look and to feel young and having children calling us by our first name instead of Mr. or Mrs. [Last Name] feels good, whereas getting called "Sir" or "Madame" - especially Madame - makes us cringe. This new generation of parents wants to be different and better and shedding what might be considered as unnecessary formality is a step in the right direction. Perhaps my children have caught wind of this trend as my 2.5 year old daughter has taken as of late to calling me "Dave."  It's beyond cute and I cannot help but smile or laugh out loud each and every time it happens. What's equally heartwarming is my 4.75 year old daughter's reaction to it which is one of total shock, partial disbelief and boundless elation that is registered in a soon-to-be-trademarked facial expression that I cannot shake. It also might possibly be wrong. Now I'm no childhood development expert (although many of my friends are) but I do believe that a healthy amount of respect between a child and his/her parent is a prerequisite for positive parenting. No matter how strong the desire to become your child's friend, your job/our job is to tend to their care and feeding and one of those responsibilities entails ensuring they understand their roles vis-a-vis, well, us. And this must be enforced or if you rather, governed, by you... Those of you who know me well must be wondering what's gotten into me (as I'm very much the hyper-active parent who always is on the ground with the kids at most times of the day). I love them more than anything; so much, in fact, that I'm trying now to learn how to leverage this love to ensure that I do the right thing by them even if it goes against my own authentic desire, which is to try and be both their friend AND their parent. I don't know how to end this piece as the story is still unfinished. I think what's best is to lovingly tell her that although my name is indeed Dave, I'm her father and it's best to call me "Dad", "Daddy" or "Daddy-O, Daddy-O, Daddy-O-Day" (which is what the older one has been calling me since last Wednesday). When she gets it wrong, I'll simply repeat the line and/or I simply ignore her request until she says the "right" thing. I'll let you know how it goes...