Driving home from pre-school with my three-year old – I’M ALMOST FOUR – almost four-year old granddaughter, we engaged in an extensive discussion of colors and fruit.

ME:   What’s your favorite color?

SHE:  I like all colors. Blue, green, red, yellow,

ME:   Orange?

SHE:  Orange

ME:   What color are oranges?

SHE:  ORANGE

ME:   What color are bananas?

SHE:  Yellow

ME:   Why are they called bananas; shouldn’t they be called yellows?

SHE:  Because they are bananas

ME:   But if oranges are orange wouldn’t yellow be a good name for bananas?

SHE:  Yellow is a color

ME:   What color are blueberries

SHE:  Blue

ME:   My point exactly. Why aren’t there redberries?

SHE:  Because they are strawberries

ME:   I was thinking raspberry, but I’ll give you that

SHE:  Did you bring me a snack?

ME:   Oh look, an airplane

Why are things called what they are called? And don’t get all etymological on me. I know it generally has something to with either a guy known as The Greek or a guy known as The Latin; as in, “it’s from The Latin for victory.”

(That in itself makes no sense. The Latin mispronounced vici as “wiki” as in wiki-pedia, from The Greek, and neither has anything to do with inaccurate information passed off as fact).

But if we did call bananas “yellows” we would have banana available to call something else – like the Name Game. Banana bo bana.. fe, fi, mo mana,…

I’ll admit to a somewhat obsessive interest in words and the peculiar way we use them.

I recently made some comment about a new drug my doctor is likely to have me try, and posited that it is called Ibrutinib because all the good drug names are taken.

Well, turns out there is some rhyme or reason for how drugs are named and most of it has to do with The Latin but it’s also true that there have never been good names for drugs.

We’re accustomed to it now, but imagine what it must have been like the very first time a doctor told a patient “we’re going to give you an aspirin.”

“A WHAT?”

Pretend you have never heard the word before; what would you be thinking? Say it out loud.

“I’ve got a headache. How is giving me something purrin’ in my ass going to help.”

And that is how the “second opinion” came to be.

Calling it “aspirin” may not have had anything to do with the development of Bufferin, but it certainly figured into naming it.

Words are interesting things. We don’t think about them often enough. My granddaughter seems to have it figured out. She’s a three almost four year-old and isn’t encumbered by these issues the way I am.

I’m old. So old I don’t buy green yellows, ah, bananas.

Hmmm.  Maybe she’s on to something.