I am Liam's favorite person in the world right now. Actually, for the last few months. He explodes with glee when I come home from work each night, running full steam to latch onto my legs and insisting I pick him up and join him in whatever his imagination is concocting at the moment. We play all the time, I read to him, bathe him, and he helps me do some chores (often enough, cleaning up after him).

Normally I'd say this is great, but now he does not listen to his mama, refuses food from her—insisting I feed him—and in general wants nothing to do with her when I'm around. When she asks him to come and give her a hug or kiss, he runs to me and refuses.

It breaks her heart. And mine.