I recently took Baby B out on a mother-daughter date. I told her at the end that it was time to head home to make dinner.
“Yeah,” she said. “And see Daddy!”
I am used to being chopped liver so I didn’t even bat an eye. I buckled her into her car seat and she seriously informed me, “Daddy me favorite color.”
Yesterday she pointed at Baby C and told me that her baby sister is “me favorite color.”
My heart was almost as melty as could be but then A looked at her and said, “You’re my favorite color… I love my family!”
But at the end of the day, in spite of all our shortcomings and imperfections, I hope we raise the kind of family who always feels like we’re each other’s favorite colors.