This time next week my four-year-old daughter’s anticipation will be reaching fever pitch. All her dreams will be on the verge of coming true.

Her dad will finally be talking to someone who really matters.

She thinks it’s all very well conversing with Alice Cooper. She takes a passing interest in the ‘Cherry Black Stones’ and is keen to meet any deaf leopard or white snake given the chance.But there’s one interview which really has captured her vivid imagination: Cinderella.

In the world of four-year-old girls Disney Princesses are rock and roll. They are showbiz royalty and far bigger names than any Kerrang! Pin-up you could care to mention.

And now daddy’s going to call the queen of princesses. Cinderella herself.

How the whole thing’s going to pan out is anyone’s guess. Tom Keifer has been known to hit the high notes during an illustrious hair metal cum blues rock career.

But in conversation it’s unlikely he’ll be convincing enough to conjure images of flowing blue dresses and glass slippers.

And the more I worry about next week’s impending date with bitter disappointment (my daughter’s, rather than mine) I wonder why on earth a credible rock band from the US chose to name themselves after a blonde haired servant girl and heroine to little girls everywhere.

Maybe, at their MTV peak, it was possible to understand why Tom and his buddies respected Cinders’ hair. After all, the whole band could have attended any early 90s ball and easily passed as princesses before – and after – midnight.

But it’s hardly a name which conjures images of piercing riffs and anthemic choruses. In fact Cinderella has to be one of the most ill-conceived and unlikely rock and roll names since, well, the Beatles.

Even now when I talk wistfully of one day meeting Cinderella the other playground dads look at me like I’m 36 going on six. Back in the day the majority of rockers found it difficult to believe there was this big new band from America named after a cartoon character. In 2010 it just seems ridiculous.

And maybe it is. But thankfully the trend for naming rock acts after Disney megastars never took off and instead of Snow White we got Great White – albeit a band with a singer named after a small dog.

Just how I’ll let down my daughter is anyone’s guess – even a T-shit won’t soften the blow as Tom K is no princess.

But avoiding a tantrum will be good practice – a few weeks later daddy’s catching up with Cinderella’s label mates, Giant. That should be another interesting conversation…