Arrival...

When Daddy gets home (at various God forsaken hours of the day) I usually try to give him a moment to settle in, change, relax, do whatever he wants to do.  This only because my first instinct is to jump on him like white on rice, beg for adult interaction, tell him all about MY day with HIS son, convince him to rub my back, and then coerce him into letting me go away from the knee-knocker for a little while.  That is, of course, not a good way to keep my marriage vibrant and healthy.  So I hold back. 


Riker, on the other hand, does not.  He does jump on Daddy like crust on bread.  He hangs on him. He follows him around everywhere, including the bathroom.  He talks non-stop and tells Daddy everything.  He tells on Mommy.  He tells about his day.  He speculates on Daddy's day. He explains, in detail, EVERYTHING.  (gets that from me of course).  He does what I want to do!


Last night, I was quiet when Daddy arrived home.  I let him do his thing.  I was making dinner when Riker approached and said, "Mommy, I am going to go talk to Dad.  Cuz I love him.  And you aren't talking to him.  So I am going to talk to him, Mommy, ok?"


Well.