The hubby has always been a great dad to PK from day one. He stayed up with me when she was feeding at night every three hours. He is more than willing to take her for an evening when I need to catch my breath. He puts her to bed every night. He sings made-up songs to her. He tells her stories. He helped her develop her right hand when it was lagging behind in development compared to the left hand. Most importantly, he is patient and loves her to the ends of the Earth.
But what really sealed the deal for me was what happened tonight, just as he got home. PK hadnr had a poop since Sunday night (48 hours sans poop), and tonight, she blew a BIG load in her diaper just as he'd arrived home from work. (I'd also sent him on a few errands on his way home.) I had PK on the change table and had opened her diaper. It was NASTY. Definitely a return-to-sender poop. Just as he walked in the door, I called out from her room, "Wanna change a poopy diaper?"
He didn't even hesitate. Still in his dress clothes, he went up to PK's room to change her very nasty diaper as I saw my sis off. (She had been over for the afternoon.)
He definitely deserves that #1 Dad mug on Father's Day and then some.
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