Last night I collapsed onto the couch, grateful that Hot Stuff was finally home to bear some of the brunt of childcare. He was in the kitchen making dinner (he's Hot Stuff for more than just looks, y'all) and I was looking forward to a couple of minutes of sitting by myself.
See, I'm pretty sure there's some sort of strange magnetic connection between Dojo and me. Maybe they didn't cut the chord just right--maybe there's an invisible thread still connecting us. Whatever it is, Dojo cannot--CANNOT--let me just sit. The second I sit down anywhere he is suddenly plastered against me.
I get a little tired of being touched all day every day.
So naturally, as soon as I sat down on the couch he was lying across my lap, elbowing and kneeing and heatbutting in his exuberant affection. I opened my mouth to complain to Hot Stuff that Dojo never leaves me alone when the little creature looked up at me, grinned, and said, "Mama? You're the best mommy ever."
Melt melt melt.
"Oh, Dojo, thank you!"
Nayna, who was, of course, also sitting so close she was touching me, looked up and smiled. "I like Daddy the best."