Thursday, May 6, 2010

Don't open the champagne


The little girl is having a laugh with me I suspect.

So, the doctor asks "Is she smiling yet?" I proudly announce that she is. I nudge the baby to give her a cue to throw the doctor a smile but she doesn't oblige. I glare at her but I can tell that she doesn't give two hoots. The doctor pokes around at her bits and declares her to be rudely healthy. I then swiftly take her in my arms and shove a nappy on her before she can pee all over me.

Since leaving the doctor's surgery The Little Girl has displayed nothing but a big fat puss on her face. I've seen this sort of behaviour before. She's saving her smiles for someone else and if she is anything like her sister that someone else will be Daddy. So, I'm keeping her away from Daddy. This may sound childish - not the sort of thing that should be coming from the mind of a responsible mother. I don't care. She smiles for me or she smiles for no-one.

Pistols are drawn and the battle of wits has begun...

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