1 year & 9 months into Daddyhood

My daughter is, it seems, learning the meaning of pain. And that’s not as sinister as it sounds. Nor is she training to become a professional wrestler. Or cage fighter. Or no-holds-barred street brawler. Which may come as a surprise to anyone who has been the victim of one of her head-locks, neck-locks, belly-flops, near-flesh-puncturing arm-bites, similarly-painful belly-bites or eye-watering nipple-tweaks. No, these are just some of her “natural” talents. The meaning of my opening statement (re the learning of the “meaning of pain”) is thus…

She has learnt the appropriate meaning and context of the word “Ow!” Which is not entirely surprising, considering how frequently Mummy and Daddy have been known to utter said exclamation when in receipt of one of the above, shall we say, “moves.” However, far from eliciting some kind of sympathy/empathy from our child when she wittingly or otherwise inflicts pain upon her parents (which may, thinking about it, be a little too much to expect from a not-quite-two-year-old), her response to such tends to be that she finds it (a) funny, or (b) educational – i.e., re the latter (the former being, one would think, obvious), that such thoughts as “So that’s what happens if I do X, Y or Z to Mummy or Daddy” appear to arise in her head. Which makes telling her off for such things… interesting.

And that’s not to mention her developing masochistic streak.

Okay, I’ll mention it…

For example…

While writing the latter part of the above, the aforementioned mini-missy decided it would be fun or interesting or whatever to pick up Little Teddy (being a teddy who is little but not particularly soft) and start bashing herself round the head with him, whilst repeatedly exclaiming, “Ow!” This while being pushed in her pushchair around Kidderminster town centre. Imagine the embarrassment!

(I do love that girl… 🙂 )

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