Yesterday, as I tried to rouse Kaylee from sleep to get her ready for daycare, she gave me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen on a baby’s face. If she could talk, I imagine she would have said something like, “WHAT are you doing?” and her voice would have been dripping with venom.
This is much like what happens when I try to wake Rob up from a deep sleep. Both father and daughter tend to wake suddenly and in terrible confusion. They’ve both mastered an expression that’s halfway between terror and fury, like they’re afraid that the house is burning down, because that’s the ONLY THING THAT WOULD JUSTIFY WAKING THEM UP. EVER.
Fortunately, though, the similarity stops there. Where Rob will usually grumble, roll over and go back to sleep even as I repeatedly jab his shoulder to try to keep him conscious, Kaylee quickly breaks into a smile that lights up her whole face when she realizes that Mommy is leaning over her.
I’m sure that’ll change when she’s a teenager.