This is a conversation I had with my 5-year-old the other day:
5: [describing her day at school] “….and then I had fun with my friends at recess. I am Frank.”
Me: “What? You are Frank? Who is Frank?”
5: “No. I am Frank.”
Me: “What? I don’t get it. Oh – are you acting? Are you pretending to be someone named Frank?”
5: [visibly bothered] “NO! I am FRANK!”
Me: ….. [cautiously aware that Frank seems very bothered at this point and I am not sure what the hell is happening] ….”I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Can you use other words to help explain who Frank is?”
5: [about to burst into flames of frustration] “I. AM. FRANK.”
Me: …….
5: Grumble grumble grumble
Me: …..”Oooh wait. Do you mean you are ‘being frank’? Did you hear someone use that expression?”
5: “Yes.”
Me: “Do you know what that means?”
5: “No.”
I then launched into a 20-minute explanation that Frank is a name – she doesn’t know anyone named Frank and had no idea – after which point I tried to explain that, however, Frank is not a name in this scenario – hello, confusion – and then I tried to give her examples of how and why people would ever say they are ‘being frank.’ I’m pretty sure I lost her about 5 minutes in. I’m also pretty sure she’ll never want to be frank again. Or Frank.
Banana Wheels 
If helpful, next time my parents are in time, I could introduce her to my dad, Frank. Though, to be frank, it’s a nickname for Francis which he doesn’t care for, so I don’t know if that would further add to the confusion…
I will join this conversation only if there is booze to numb the pain.
But being frank was FUN….
That’s one word for it.