Ella: “Hey Mummy…”
Me: “Yes?”
Ella: “Daddy’s my favourite, but don’t worry…I still love you and Caleb.”
Me: “Oh that’s nice honey…hang on, WHAT?”
***
I relayed this to Tim, who tried to hide his amused pleasure with a look of sympathy and an attempt to reason with our increasingly un-PC daughter.
Him: “We don’t have favourites Ella. We all love each other the same!”
Ella: “Yeah, I know that Daddy. But I like you the best.”
Ouch.
But before Tim could console me, I shook it off, shrugged and said “Yeah, well once I’m in America and I’m the one who hardly sees the kids all week, then maybe I’ll be the favourite. Huh? Huh? HUH?! Put that in your super-daddy pipe and smoke it!”
See? I’m so above that ‘favourites’ rubbish. I am, how you say? “Untouchable.”
(Ouch.)
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