Second fiddle

There are only so many times you can hear tearful repetitions of "Oh, Da-daaaaaa" and "Dada hooooooome" and "Dada baaaaaack, peeeeeeease" before you lose your mind.

It'll be interesting to see how long it takes.

Nathan's work has sent him to a conference in Texas. I didn't give that much thought, because one thing's for sure – I like my space. I'm always happy in my own company and although I love having Nathan around, I've always wondered about couples who say, "We've never spent a night apart". So it all sounded straightforward: see you in a few days, honey.

I didn't bargain for the Berry Factor.

My first mistake was driving Nathan to the airport with Berry along for the ride. My second mistake was not preventing him from getting on the plane.

The tearful pleas began before we were even out of the airport drop-off area, and they lasted, non-stop, all the way home. "Oh Dada baaaaaaack.... Dada hoooome, peeeeease mama" – as if I could conjure him up so long as she asked politely.

All afternoon, more of the same. The bad-mama side of me thinks this is outrageously unfair. Who gives the baths? Who changes the nappies? Who puts the band-aids on? Who does the Berry-wrangling through the grocery store? Who makes all the food? Who combs the tangles out of the curls? Who gets up in the night? That would be me, me, me, me, me, me, and oh – me.

Who gets the devoted fan club? Daddy. Daddy is fun. Daddy is the hero. Yep, that's life.

I called my mum to keep me sane, long-distance, through the worst of it this evening – the dramatic wailing for Dada to come hoooooome and the insistence that a mouse, Santa and a puppy in her Christmas book were all Daddy, and all needed to come baaaaaaack.

I'm not sure who's going to keep me sane the rest of the time – so I suppose that's where the interesting will-I-lose-my-mind experiment kicks in.

We have four days to find out. That'll be plenty.