In his efforts to put off going to bed as long as possible, Miles will often swap out his “preferred parent” multiple times in one night. What starts as “I want Daddy!” soon becomes “No I want Mommy!” And on and on it goes.
A few nights ago, things took…a turn.
It started when I had been the parent Miles had initially requested. Soon enough he called for Mommy. Once she entered the room, Miles said (to her, which…RUDE), “I want daddy to leave.”
I started for the door, but asked for a hug first. No way I was going that easy.
He ran over and gave me a big hug, one that went on a bit longer than expected. So long, in fact, that it culminated with Miles yanking me back into the room. As I tumbled across the floor, Miles shut the door behind me.
“Now no one can leave,” he said, with the cool nonchalance that one might expect from, oh, Hannibal Lecter. He pointed to the doorknob cover, bane of his existence, which kept him sealed within his room. “Because this is too hard to leave.”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 