Sophie Davida Finkle-Cohen got out of her bed even though it was 10:30 at night, and she was only seven and a half. And even though she had school the next morning.
Her parents were reading in the living room.
She stood by the door and waited. Finally her mother looked up. "You must be hungry," she said.
"I want..." Sophie began. "I want you to call me Sue."
"Sue?" her mother said.
"Or Betty," Sophie said. "Or even Jane."
"But Sophie Davida is your name," her father said.
"I don't like it," Sophie insisted. "It's too long."
"Then we'll just call you by the first part," her father said. "That will make it shorter."
"You don't understand," Sophie said, as she turned back to her room. "It's not just the number of letters."