"Peanut. Oh, Peanut. Where are you?" I called. It was time to play outside and Peanut was no where to be found and he didn't come when I called. Then I saw him in his play pool. "Peanut! Why didn't you answer?"

"That's not my name. My name is John!" he said very rudely.

"Your name is Peanut. Everybody knows your name is Peanut! When people visit they ask, 'Where is Peanut?'. Do you want me to say, 'Oh, we don't have anyone here by THAT name. Would you like to play with John?' So don't be silly. You can't change your name to John."

"Okay. I understand. Some people don't like their names so they change them. But, I don't want to call you John. ... How about calling you 'P.B.' ? That sounds very grown up."

"That sounds nice" and he said it two or three times... "P. B." "P. B." "What does it mean?" he asked.

"It's just a quick way of saying 'Peanut Butter'"