There’s something about daddy

I do not know what the difference is between the last few days, or the last two years. But for some reason, lately our toddler insists on daddy for everything.

Make no mistake, this is no skin off MY back. Go ahead, little girl! I say.

Suits me just fine.

But then she comes up with these lines…take today. He went to pick her up at the Montessori daycare at noon and arrived back at the house at the same time as I did with the preschooler.

While Benjamin was dilly dallying about taking his shoes off, washing his hands, that sort if thing, I’m getting lunch ready.

Sonja is standing near the closet door. She’s unwilling, or unable, to get her jacket off. I offer to help. She glances at her dad, looks at me, then glares at me. She then decides to wander over to her daddy and says to me, in the whiniest voice she can muster up:

Noooooo, I don’t waaaant YOUR help. YOU are STINKY.

Ahem.