I’m not the favorite

I am not the favorite parent. Not by a long shot.

If the ratbabies have a choice to go with me or Lynn, they choose Lynn every time. Even if I’m doing something fun and he’s working.

It kind of hurt my pride last night when either Lynn or I had to attend a meeting, and the kids BEGGED me to go so they could “Be with Daddy”. Yes, I know not to take it personal.

Tonight having that in mind I watched the three of them.

I took this photo out of the bathroom window. It’s Lynn burning trash and watering the garden…sometimes squirting the girls with the water hose. The shrieks are what made me look out. (Also notice the mini donkey in the background -he belongs to the neighbors and is rarely where he is supposed to be)

Excuse the glare. I took it through the less-than-clean bathroom window

Then right before bed they decide to play “beauty salon” and Lynn is their mannequin . They are not gentle. They pretend primp and pretend curl and smack him on the head with the brush trying to brush his hair.

Not exactly a relaxing spa day for Lynn.

So maybe he’s their favorite because they are smart. They see in him some of the qualities I saw in him when I married him. Strong and gentle. Honest and direct but kind as well. Steady and patient. Careful and constant.

We are some smart gals for picking him as our favorite.