Last night Doug got home while I was making dinner. Keilana and Dylan were doing some strange kung-fu-like fighting all over the place, chasing and kicking and giggling. Kylie was sitting in the middle of the livingroom floor playing contentedly with random odds and ends the other kids had left strewn about. In other words, pretty typical 5:30ish at our house on a weeknight.
So Doug walks in and Keilana yells, "Daddy!" and runs over to him, and he promptly scoops her up and starts kissing and tickling her. Kylie watches all of this rather intently (she's a pretty darned big fan of her dad--more than Rosencrantz and Guildenstern here were at that age), and before long she's shrieking at him. Not crying, not wimpering, not tears. Yelling. Annoyed. Jealous. She started to crawl toward him and, thinking the whole thing was terribly funny, Doug put Keilana down to see if that would change anything. Kylie quickly became content and slowed her crawl and sat up. A few minutes later, he picked Keilana up again and started to play. Kylie again begins to yell at him and crawl toward him. So he puts down Keilana, picks up the baby, feeds her a bit of cantaloupe and all is forgiven. She goes back to playing contentedly on the floor by herself.
Already jealous of attention from daddy? I can't decide if that's a good sign or a bad sign.
1 comment:
That's hilarious!
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