What's in a name?

After all my efforts to get William to call me "Papa," he has recently taken to calling out "Dahn" from the other room, occasionally running up to the double French doors, slobbering all over the windows while he presses his face against the glass panels, and yelling out again, "Dahn," as if mocking me openly.

How did this happen, you ask? I'll be sitting here in front of the computer, minding my own business, and every now and then, Mirjam will call out my name from the kitchen. After having heard her call for me from across the house so many times, and having seen me appear from behind the doors on occasion, William caught on that I not only respond to "Baba," but also "Dahn."

I told Mirjam it's her fault he doesn't call me "Baba" anymore, and it's her responsibility to fix it.