Katie prefers Daddy. You’ll find no bitterness in those words for me. It is what it is: Katie prefers Daddy to me. I think it’s kind of cute, actually.
Katie demands that Daddy buckle her into her carseat, not me. Katie calls for Daddy, not Mommy, if she wakes up in the middle of the night. She prefers to sit next to Daddy when she watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She wants Daddy to brush her teeth, read her a bedtime story, and put her to bed. She waves good-bye when I leave for work, but cries when Daddy does the same. It’s okay, I know that Katie loves me, too. She just prefers her Daddy.
Yesterday, though, Katie was sick. Strep throat, it turns out. Daddy was at work, and my usually loud and rambunctious Katie was feverish and tired. So, for the first time I can ever remember, Katie really wanted Mommy. A lot.
Katie wanted Mommy to hold her all day long. Katie wanted Mommy to cuddle with her on the couch. Katie wanted Mommy to sing lullabies into her ear. Katie wanted Mommy to give her cold juice and warm kisses. Katie wanted Mommy.
Katie, with her red cheeks and her fleece pajamas and her monkey blankie and her bedhead. Katie wanted Mommy to hold her. And Mommy did.
Until Daddy came home.