My little Zula is seven months old. I love it that whenever she sees me her eyes light up and she smiles and giggles. It makes me feel so good. For a few moments. Until Whit comes in right behind me and she REALLY goes nuts.
She’s such a daddy’s girl with big, blue eyes just for him.
Well I am not even kidding, but this morning when I was still on the bed getting dressed, Whit went into Zula’s room and got her up. I could hear her squealing and giggling, and rolling all around the crib when he walked in.
He brought her into our room and I smiled up at her with a bright “good morning,” expecting a big smile in return (I always get big smiles from her even though they’re not quite as big as someone else’s…). But this time she didn’t smile back. I thought she didn’t hear me so I said it again. And again. Whit sat her on the bed next to me and I was inches away from her face as I said a nice and cheery “good morning,” but it was as if I wasn’t even there. Her bright eyes fixed on Whit.
Whit was kind of chuckling. I didn’t think it was very funny at all. I asked her if she could see me and when she didn’t respond – at all, I’m talking like not even an eye twitch – I asked her again. Then a third time.
Finally Whit, who had her full attention, asked, “Can you see mama?”
To which my tiny seven-month-old responded with a stern head shake – no.
If I didn’t know better (and maybe I don’t…) I’d say she knew exactly what she was doing. But I guess all she wanted was for us to know, too, because we were laughing so hard and she joined in, now magically able to see me.
I think we have a little tease on our hands.
…who might only have eyes for her daddy.