“Huggles?” Miss3 asked me tonight from the doorway, arms wide apart in anticipation. I was once again struck dumb by the fact I had a part, however brief, in creating something so cute.
Then, just as I threw my arms open to receive my little darling, her mother ruined it with three little words.
“What about me?”
I saw Miss3 balk, then continue forward, her trajectory altered towards her mother’s arms.
I altered my arms to compensate.
You’d have thought I had dog shit on my hands. She actually hunched her shoulders and cringed as she avoided my hands.
“No, no, no,” I said, putting forward my argument for rejecting her mother’s unworthy request for a hug and redirecting her attentions back to my own good self. “Me, me, me.” I’m not articulate under pressure.
I also never win so much as an ‘also ran’ ribbon in the daddy vs mummy stakes.
“Hahahaha,” cooed Tracey.
But then the most wonderful thing happened: Miss3 spun around and disappeared through the door, taking all hope of a huggle for either of us with her.
Tracey and I looked at each other. She with her sad face, and me with my gloating one I rarely get to dust off.
Miss3 had obviously decided neither of us much deserved her attentions tonight.
“Ouch,” said Tracey.
“Yes, well now you know how I feel,” I chastised my wife.
“Huggles?” she asked me in a supercute imitation of our second youngest child. We would console each other. What a lovely idea.
All forgiven, I threw open my arms once again….
…and Tracey walked out the doorway in Miss3’s wake. When will I learn?
When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes,
Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’ Facebook Page.
’raising a family on little more than laughs’