I had to see this coming, karmically.
When I was two or three, so the legend goes, I looked my mother straight in the eye and said, "When are you going to leave so Daddy and I can be alone?" The story has been told and retold with some good-natured Oedipal ribbing over the years, but always in the spirit of fun. What I know now, so vividly, is how un-fun it must have been for my mother at the time.
Connery is going through a real Daddy phase right now. He's the first person Connery asks for in the morning and the last person he wants to see at night. Yesterday, he didn't even want to get out of his crib after his nap because Daddy wasn't there to take him out. He routinely tells me to go away, though in his defense I will admit that he always says please. "Go away please, Mommy!"
I'm trying hard not to take this personally, but it's hard. It's even harder than getting over his first word lo those many months ago being "cat" rather than "mama". I mean, the cat won't even give him the time of day!
I hope the pendulum swings my way again soon.