Melia is incredibly lovey dubby these days. She regresses into paroxysms of delight when I get home from anywhere. Before bed lately, she has been telling me, "I love you more than you do, Daddy."
I knew this was a good thing the first time I heard it, whatever she meant by it. At first I guessed she was saying that her love for me was greater than my love for myself.
True enough, I thought. Maybe her intuitive little heart had sensed my bent for self-loathing and wanted to tell me she saw a more lovable soul here than I saw in myself.
But only a few nights ago did I figure out what she was really trying to articulate.
"I love you more than you love me," Melia said.
I laughed and argued back, "You are very sweet, but I don't think so, because I love you soooo much!"
"I know, but I love you MORE than you love me." She was sticking to her guns.
And it cracked me up. "I don't know, my Melia...."
"Don't laugh, Daddy. I'm serious."
This only made me more giggly, but she was adamant now. "Don't laugh at me, Daddy! I'm serious!"
Finally, I shut up and let her love me.