I'm now fairly certain that Charlotte knows who I am.
In fact, it was all but confirmed yesterday morning when she awoke from her slumber, rose up in her cot and shouted "Daddy!" in the direction of our room.
I was thrilled (although Vanessa was even more thrilled as it meant she didn't have to get up).
Charlotte's warm greeting contrasted sharply with what Jamie used to cry out of a morning when he was younger.
He had developed a habit of waking up much too early, particularly at weekends. So Vanessa bought him an alarm clock which went "cock-a-doodle-doo," set it to go off at 6.30am and told him he wasn't allowed to get up until he heard that sound.
But Jamie had a cunning plan. When he woke up and rather than wait for the alarm, he thought a cockerel impersonation would do just as well. The only problem was, "cock-a-doodle-doo" is something of an oratorical challenge for a two-year-old.
Instead, we had regular shouts of "Cock! Cock! Cock!" emanating from Jamie's room.
This presented Vanessa with an open goal.
"He's calling for you," she would spout, smugly.
As I say, I much prefer Charlotte's approach.
