The idea of the bumbling incompetent father that can't figure out anything or get anything done - I'm pretty sure that's what Alice pictures me to be. It's probably due to the fact that I keep on playing up this idea.
Me: "Here's some prosciutto, your favourite."
Alice: "I don't like pro shoe toe!"
or
Me: "The sky is purple with pink polka dots!"
Alice: "No it's not. It's boo!"
I love being corrected by my girl. I'm sure that one day that will wear off. Maybe one day she will also see through my charade.
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