Mama vs. Dada

Andrew was rough housing with Rachel on our bed the other day. Pillow fights seem to have become one of our waking up rituals. Rachel loves them.

They were playing on the bed, bouncing, rolling around, tickling each other, and (of course) hitting each other with pillows.

Rachel was laughing her head off and egging Andrew on,

"Dada, Dada, Dada..." she'd say, gasping for air between her fits of laughter.

After I was finished getting ready for the day, it was Andrew's turn to go off and have a shower. I resumed his position, tackling Rachel on the bed.

She squealed and ran away,

"Dada, Dada!" she screamed in joy.

Then she stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me, smacked herself in the forehead, and, while slowly dragging her hand down her face, said,

"Mama."

She was quite embarrassed to have called me the wrong name. From that point on, our game played out the same as it had with Daddy, only Rachel was egging me on,

"Mama, Mama, Mama!"