So this morning I read this controversial blog a daddy wrote readily admitting that he has a favorite child. What?! A favorite child? How dare he! We’re supposed to love all of our children equally. But then I thought about it, and you know what, he’s right. I do love one child more than the other. As the mother of a three-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy, isn’t that normal? I’m sure you’re wondering which one it is. Well, I’ll tell you.
- It’s not the kid who just had a blowout diaper and stuck both feet in it
- It’s not the kid who just leaned on the dishwasher door until it fell off
- It’s not the kid who just put their sibling in a choke hold and then a box and then a basket and then a choke hold again
- It’s not the kid who just threw up down my shirt
- Or the one who just projectile vomited on the cable box
- It’s not the kid who just figured out that if they put their hand in their diaper they can paint on the walls with what they find in there
- It’s not the kid who just pulled the tail off the cat
- It’s not the kid who just ate a purple crayon, white playdough, and a stick (this diaper should be interesting)
- It’s not the kid who scared the shit out of me last night when I woke up to them staring at me 3 inches from my face
- It’s not the kid who just unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper when I turned my back for four seconds
- It’s not the kid who is the reason for cleanups on aisles 2, 7, 8 and 13.
- And it’s definitely not the kid who just dropped my deodorant in the toilet (pre-flush of course)
So yes, I do have a favorite child. Absolutely. But the difference is my favorite child is constantly changing. Come to think of it, quite often it’s the cat. But not always because sometimes the cat throws up in my shoe. Or sometimes he has a dingleberry. If you don’t know what that is, just google it. But whatever you do, don’t do an image search.