Monday, 27 March 2017

Best Daddy In A Field Of One

The 5 Year Old seems to have an inflated view of my skills and importance. I do NOT know where she gets it from...

Anyway, I sometimes try to put her right. For instance, she often says to me now, after I stopped her from falling flat on her face on the hill outside our house, "I am always safe with Daddy-Waddy." To which I point out:
a) "Daddy-Waddy????" and
b) Strictly speaking, were we to, say, find ourselves at ground zero during a thermonuclear attack, the presence of Daddy is going to do little or nothing to preserve us from the devastating apocalypse.

But I digress. Today, she wants a yoghurt from the shop. Not just any yoghurt; one of those ones with a separate compartment of tiny chocolate balls that you pour in. I feel that she has had enough of this sort of thing recently, so say no.

"Then you are not the Best Daddy in the World any more!"

"Oh. I didn't know that I was the Best Daddy in the World."

"Well, good, because you are not now!" Fair point.

"That's a shame," I say. "So who is the Best Daddy in the World now?"

"No-one," she huffs, arms folded.

"How come?" I enquire.

"Because no other Daddy is as good as you."

"So if I'm not Best Daddy in the World then no-one is?" I press.

"That's right!"

"So strictly speaking, I'm still Best Daddy in the World!"

"You are NOT!" Arms akimbo!

"Can I get back to being Best Daddy in the World?"


"What do I have to do?" Now, one would expect that the yoghurt would feature here again, but brace yourselves, we have moved on!

"You must go on Strictly Come Dancing and dance with Mummy. That would be VERY FUNNY."


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