My son prefers his father to me. And, yes, it hurts. I never wanted to admit this before to anyone, let alone myself. After all, my son is now five. Is this a phase that will eventually end? I’m not so sure. Surely, by now, my son should articulate how much I mean to him, or how much fun we just had, playing hide-and-go-seek, for hours on end. Surely, the kid has got to like me, since I’ve even told him I go to work to buy him toys, which I do with abundance. I’m actually even the Good Cop. But, nope.