Imagine the scene, if you will: A loving father sits down on the floor in the kitchen to help his only daughter write her name on a piece of paper. The girl takes a turn, then the father takes a turn. As the father writes out her name, he spells it:
N-i-n-a
Then it happened.
Nina - That's not how you spell my name!
Matt - Sure it is, your name is Nina, N-i-n-a
Nina - My name has two big N's
Matt - No, we write our names with one big letter at the beginning. Like this N-i-n-a
Nina - Nuh uh, it has two big N's
Matt - No, you just need one big N
Nina - You don't know how to spell my name! It has two big N's!
At this point I see Nina run past me in a rage up the stairs. I figured she was going to her room to cry, because sometimes she does that. "I'm just going to go cry in my room for a minute." A little bit later she runs back down carrying something in her arms. She returns to the kitchen where Matt is and throws something down at his feet.
Nina - See, I told you! Two big N's!
She had grabbed these letters from off the shelf in her room. I guess she had a point. There are two big N's.
