Picture the scene this morning, bottom of the stairs, attempting to get the family out of the front door. I am trying to get Baby B ready to go outside –
“No, Baby B no, I am just trying to put your shoes on, stay still, stop struggling, you love these shoes, why are you making this harder than it needs to be” – You get the idea.
Daddy comes downstairs, pulls a funny face, makes Baby B laugh, says in a kind, gentle voice ‘Shall we put your shoes on?’ to which Baby B, sits himself down on the bottom step and offers up this left foot.
Done, no problem at all.
So how come I had spent the previous 10 mins wrestling with a sweaty and very angry Baby B whose main form of self-defence in this case was to try to bite my arm.
Because Daddy is in favour today. Parent of the day.
Tomorrow it will be me and Baby B will seek comfort in Mumma when Daddy tells him off for trying to stand on his guitar.
But today is Daddy is the parent of the day and there is nothing I can do about it.
Honestly, I do sometimes think that at 21 months Baby B is smart enough to play us off against each other, whilst providing us both with just enough love and affection that we both want him on our side. Genius. Perhaps he will be a hostage negotiator or a lawyer one day!