When It's Hard To Be The Favourite Parent

My 15-month-old daughter doesn’t love me more than her father. She’s a big Daddy fan. Daddy is her favourite parent for all things fun – shoulder rides, jumping on the bed, dancing, making stupid noises of all kinds. That being said, I’m the one that she needs more.

Whenever she’s looking for bit of comfort or just feeling a bit whingey, I’m her favourite. Lucky me.

I can only assume that this whole Mummy-attachment thing has something to do with the fact that I carried her in my womb for nine months while she squashed my bladder and kicked me repeatedly in the ribs. Or maybe it’s because I…

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