This morning I stumbled down into the kitchen, eyes still glued together, nightie flapping and slippers slapping on the tiles. A picture of tired maternal messiness, but that didn't put my golden Zach off. As soon as he heard my shuffling step approaching his blonde head bounced up, his green eyes dancing with delight as a gappy smile lit up his face. He threw open his arms and bombed at me, flinging them around my knees ecstatically shouting "Hello mummy".
Oh how my heart melted. No amount of tousled hair or pillow creases on my cheeks can put my boy off. How I love him and clearly how he loves me. Or so I thought.
Just ten minutes later, overcome by affection for my little boy I called to him "Zachy, I love you". He turned around slowly, a mischievous glint in those self same green eyes, and he began s to shake his head, burnished curls catching the light as he announces: "No lub mummy. Lub daddy". He then pointedly returned his attention to CBeebies making it clear he has already learned the value of treating mum mean to keep her keen.