Griffin is a daddy's boy through and through. If given a choice between his mom or dad, it's all daddy all the time. After two boys who personify the "momma's boy" moniker, it is somewhat bewildering to me to have a child, my last sweet baby, who prefers his daddy's arms to mine.
Sometimes it makes me laugh. Other times it hurts just a bit.
Today, though, it made me laugh.
I took the boys to the pool for the morning. As I swam with Griffin, giving him rides on my back around and around the pool, he turned into my arms, gazed at me with his big blue-green eyes and asked that fateful question, "Where's my Daddy?"
"He's on the golf course G, but he'll meet us to swim a little bit later." I replied, smiling.
Griffin strikes a pout and says, "But I want to swim with him now Mommy."
"I know honey, and you can swim with him later."
He shakes his head back and forth as he considers my answer. After a moment, he looks at me with a huge grin and tells me, "I know! I am going to pretend you are my Daddy. So then I am swimming with my Daddy. Okay? Let's go Daddy! Swim!"
Hmmm, not a huge fan of this pretend game. I smile at Griffin and say sweetly, "What about your Mommy Griff? Don't you want to swim with your Mommy?"
He gives me a look that tells me he is not amused.
"No, Mommy isn't here. Mommy is at golf. Daddy is here to swim with me. Let's swim Daddy!"
Yes, so Daddy gets to golf with his buddies and still get all the credit for swim time at the pool while Mommy does all the work. Perhaps I should have taken up golfing instead of tennis.
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