So once again she's a Daddy's girl. She cries when he goes to work, she cries when he takes the dog for a walk, she cries when he goes to get something from the car.
Listen child, I carried you for nine god damn months. Well, almost ten. I had to have my stomach cut open for you. I was in agony for months, all for you. I'm the one that gets slapped in the face, tantrumed on, screamed at, vommed on, thrown food at, wee'd on... and you want your Daddy?
Well, lady, it's tough titties I'm afraid. Daddy has to go to work to fund Mummy's biscuit addiction.
Why do kids do this? 'Don't take it personally' the Daddies say. How can I not? I love that bloody child's bones and I put up with her crap all day long. I'm the one teaching her words every day and helping her practice walking. I give her chocolate (only sometimes, calm down), cuddle her when she's teething, play farms and tea parties every pissing day. I endure Bubble Guppies, for gods sake. And all she wants is her Daddy?
Charming. Fucking charming.
I'll remember this when she comes running to me one day because DADDY said no to something. Oh yes. I'll remind her of all the hard times I went through for her just to be shunned.
And then what? And then, no doubt, I'll cave in and give her everything she wants.