War!

Is it very wrong that I want Mollie to love me best of all?

Every time she smiles at Mr F and someone remarks, 'Oooh she's gonna be a daddy's girl,' I want to scratch their eyes out and shout, 'Nooo, she's mine, all mine!'

Luckily, my husband is equally competitive.

Take this morning. Midway through singing, 'My girl Mollie-Pop, ba-da-ba-ba, you make my heart go giddy-up', I caught him staring at me with barely concealed hate.

"That's my song," he hissed. "I made up Mollie-Pop, you can't call her that."

"Watch me," I said. "Anyway, you've stolen plenty off me, What about Mollie Mollie Moo (sung to the tune of Scooby Doo)? That was mine."

I'm ashamed to say we spent the rest of breakfast staking our individual claims on the many nicknames, songs and lullabies that have been modified in Mollie's honour.

Are other parents this immature?