When I was well-behaved, I was “Miriam Eddy”, said with a smile. When I WASN’T well-behaved, it was “Mir-I-am Ed-dy!” (which is the one I heard the most), said with a VERY distinct intonation. Mir-I-am Ed-dy! I had to be Miriam Eddy, because three generations lived in our house, and my mother was Miriam, of course. And I couldn’t be Junior — she hated “Junior”. My father was a “Junior”. (She really hated it, I whisper to you!)
I always had the curl. Right in the middle of HER forehead.