We Are Family

Davy keeps saying, "I love our family." And it warms my soul. I melt. There is nothing better than your two year old saying those words. (Ok truthfully if she said, "Mother I am now done with diapers forever" that might be waaaay better.)

Throughout every day Gianna, Davy and I take breaks to snuggle close to each other and giggle. All three (sometimes four when Daddy is around) of us frozen in time loving each other. I'm not kidding. It's nauseatingly precious. It's like a thousand hallmark commercials deep fried and rolled in powered sugar.

I assumed when she said family she meant Mother Dearest, Daddy-o and little baby sister Gianna. But today she informed me, "Mom Snoofy is my brother. He is my little brother." Hmmm ok. He must take after Daddy. 

Davy and her brother Snoofy

Then out of nowhere she was mid-bite at dinner and announced mockingly, "Daddy you are my favorite parent." My warm soupy soul quickly became a hunk of ice.

 In a desperate effort to change her mind my husband declared, "Well Mommy is my favorite parent."

 "Oh really Daddy, Mommy is your favorite? You are my favorite parent Daddy."

So unfair. Moms do all the dirty work and what do we get? Snoofy children and second place to celebrity dad. Ridiculous.

favorite. just kidding. or am I?

It's not like I'm walking around all day telling her Gianna's my favorite child. (Which she obviously is right now.) Why does she have to torture me?