Daddy's Girl

There is not a day that goes by that someone doesn't comment on the fact that Mal looks like me and Micah takes after Rachel. Micah has his mother's height, blond hair and impatience. Mal's got my brown coif, tiny feet and appetite for sweets. Usually, the person in the crowd making the observation says some thing like, "oh, she's just Daddy's little girl!"

Well, this week, Daddy's little girl has been sick. Snotty. Sleepy. All together sad and sucky. So, on Thursday Malorie was excluded from the weekly playgroup that she, her mother and brother have been participating in for the last few weeks. Luckily, I had the late shift at work, and so Micah and Mom got to go to the play group while sick little Mal and Daddy stayed home.

Staying home with my infant female prototype did not phase me in the least. Don't get me wrong: I love Micah, but he is currently in the infamous "Velociraptor" phase, where he shrieks at the top of his lungs all the time, pinches everything he can reach with his grubby little fingers, and generally is mean as all get out. Basically, he has become a boy. Mal, on the other hand, is a study in patience, silence, and serenity. When Micah screams, Mal watches intently. When Micah grabs, twists and yanks, Malorie smiles and plays coy. So, if there were one baby that I had to choose to watch for a few hours during my rest period before work, it would be Mal by a landslide.

During our Daddy/Daughter day together, Mal and I took a nap (twenty minutes longer than Mom ever allows), watched a few cartoons (she does not like Handy Manny as much as Micah, but I still like it the same), ate some spinach for lunch (we set the record for the most times singing Popeye the Sailor Man's theme song in thirty minutes), and the went for a walk (Mal held my hands the whole time. I loved her more and more with each step).

Micah and Mom got home from the playgroup just in time for naps, and Mal was still sick. Snot running, eyes watering, and absolutely still suffering. Mom sucked out Mal's nostrils with the mean, blue snot sucker, made sure Mal didn't have a temperature, and ensured the house was quiet enough for solid baby slumber. These were all things Daddy would not have done, as I was intent on teaching Mal to pet Tyson instead of following the usual daily Mom prescribed pattern. Although Mal's afternoon with Daddy didn't make her feel any less sick, oddly enough, it did make me feel better. Under the weather or not, Mal Pal is still without a doubt, Daddy's little girl.