favorite

I predicted this. 

Before M was even born, I knew that it was inevitable, and now it has come to pass. She likes her dad more.

I get it. I really do. Daddy is tickles and monster sounds and climbing games and being held upside down. Mama is all, "Let's put your arm in the sleeve," "It's time to brush your teeth," and "We need to clean your face off before you can get down and play." Given the choice, I'd like Daddy better, too. 

M follows Dad around the house in the mornings, hanging from his legs while he makes coffee and trying to hold the toothbrush while he brushes his teeth. Whether she's waving goodbye or just throwing her arm in the air when he leaves for work is still up for debate. The high fives are real, though.

When Daddy comes home at the end of the day, he gets smiles and giggles. And what does Mama get? (If you've ever had a toddler living in your house, then you know darn well that five-thirty in the evening is not smiles and giggles time.)

I'm fine with it. Like I said, I was counting on this happening all along, so I've had plenty of time to prepare myself. Besides, the two of them are so dang cute together that sometimes, it's more than I can stand.