This is what Dubsie is telling me this week. She goes on to add that she loves Mummy and she likes Mummy. Then she tells me again, in case it wasn’t clear the first time, that she loves me but doesn’t like me.
When pressed for details (by Mummy, object of all affection) she divulges that Daddy is in her bad graces because he makes scary faces. Mummy is in her good graces because she makes funny faces.
She is old enough to know that Daddy is a boy and Mummy is a girl. Dubsie is a girl, and that makes her like a little Mummy. Mummy is married to Daddy. Mummy and Daddy love each other, but sometimes they fight and they don’t seem to like each other. It’s all very confusing, the liking and the loving.
After informing me how little I am liked (and if we happen to be lying down), Dubsie buries her head in my neck and inserts her palm under my shoulder, which is her current favored form of cuddling. (That and squeezing my earlobe and yelling “pinchy pinchy!”) I am happy to be part of her exploration of loving versus liking, but do nothing to aid the distinction by telling her that I love her and I like her very much.
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