The Huggler

The Huggler.

“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’

1 Comment

  • That made me laugh but in a, ‘oh that’s funny but cruel’ kind of way.
    She’s quite a lady your wife. I like her style and you draw a great picture.

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