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There's been a shift occurring in my home. Not as dramatic as an earthquake but faster than erosion. Somewhere along the lines of sand dunes changing imperceptibly on a day to day basis.
My daughter. My darling sweet Sugarbaby. My doppelganger. The one who wouldn't let me put her down. The one who slept on my chest for hours. The one who cried when she was handed to anyone else to be held. She has a new favorite. I was told to expect this. Daddy's little girls are inevitable. Still, it doesn't make it hurt any less. Although honestly, I'm not hurt, just a bit jealous. Who carried her 9 months? Who attended her every need for the past year? Who dreamed about her for five years before she even existed?
But I'll have to commend the girl, as far as daddies go, she got herself a winner. And in return, he's fallen hard for her as well. She's the first one he greets in the mornings and evenings. He doesn't mind diaper duty or a scrub in the tub. I can envision tea parties and play kitchens in his future and it makes me grin.
So go on and play favorites Sugarbaby. It's okay with me. The man you chose as your favorite just so happens to be my favorite too. And I don't mind sharing.
