The Dog and Now The Kid

Before Annie was born, it was just me, John and the dog. And before John, it was just me and Griffin. I'd say I know this dog pretty darn well. Many a night he slept in bed next to me - before John stole his spot. 

As the years passed, I watched something odd happen. Suddenly, Griffin wouldn't necessarily come when I called him. John says it's because I would annoy him and get him all wound up when he came. Anyway, over time it became obvious that while Griffin would hop up on the bed when I called him most of the time, he wouldn't do it all the time. And when John called him up any time, he would come every time. 

I'd call and I'd call and I'd call and that lazy lump would just stay curled up in the corner. I'd raise my voice, quicken it, deepen it, sing his name. And he wouldn't move. Then John would barely utter the first syllable of his name and suddenly a tail was wagging in our faces. That dog had no loyalty. So that was the year I lost my first kiddo to daddy.  

But Annie was my girl. And she loved her mama. I know that I know that kid better than anyone else. Pops included.

Here's the thing. I've noticed lately that on occasion John will be holding Annie and I'll squeeze her chubby little thighs to make her laugh. And what do you know but that John starts tickling her belly at the very same moment. And Annie explodes with laughter. Everything's fine, right? Wrong. 

It dawned on me last week that I don't have that special touch anymore. Daddy does. Because when I tickle her she only sometimes giggles and when daddy tickles her she always giggles. So when I reach for her thigh, John comes in for the kill on her belly and I'm the fool standing there thinking its me causing the joy.  John knows what's up. He pities me! It's like when your little toddler wants to push the doorbell but isn't strong enough so you press his finger in to ring it and then clap his hands and tell him what a good job he just did.

I haven't told him yet that I'm on to him. So, when he reads this post, he'll know the jig's up. I'm no longer the fool. He can stop feeling bad for me and my failure to get laughs. I guess both our kiddos have swung to John's side. So what's a mom to do but get out her camera and at least record the moments?

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