What the f*#k is wrong with Daddy?!!

My day started with my little guy getting out of bed (our bed where he has been sleeping every night for the past few months I might add, but that's another story) and grabbing at me while yelling "mamamamamamamamamama." It was 5:50 am. Not too terrible, considering there have been days when he's up at 5 sharp. But 7, no scratch that, 8 would be much better.
"Go see Daddy," I attempted in a bright voice. My husband made noises like he was pretending to still be in deep sleep. "Please, please, please take him? I'll give you twenty dollars if you take him," I nudged my husband. "Just for ten minutes. Pleeeaaaase?"
He roused himself and sat on the side of the bed. "Come see Daddy," he croaked, standing up with a sigh and finding a shirt to put on. But the little guy just stood by my bedside refusing to move. "Mama!" he chirped.
"Go see Daddy. Look! Daddy!" I attempted to make this sound very fun.
"No Maaamaaa," he wailed throwing himself on the floor.
"But it's too early and Mommy's not a morning person and the coffee grinder didn't even go off yet. Please go with Daddy. Mommy will be out soon. I promise."
"Mamamamamamama," by this time he had a firm grip on my hand and was flinging himself around trying to get me to move.
But I never ever go to bed early enough, and last night was no exception. And doesn't this boy know that mommy isn't a morning person, but that Daddy is? My husband picked up the boy and took him screaming and kicking out of the room. Anyone would think I'd just sent him off for a life of hard labor. It's just Daddy for crying out loud (sometimes literally). What's so bad about Daddy?
It's not like he doesn't spend quality time with his Dad, or isn't close with him. My husband is a teacher, so he's always home early enough to play with the boy in the evenings and we take turns bathing him and putting him to bed.
Sadly, I only got ten extra minutes of peace, because the husband had to get in the shower and get ready for work.
Happily when I did get out of the bed the coffee was made and I crept into the kitchen, sneaking up on my coffee pot in the hopes that I could get the milk and splenda in my cup before I was heard by my son. Sure enough little footsteps came pounding my way and soon he was tugging on my bath robe saying" Upppeeese, upppeeese." Well at least he's learned some manners. There's one thing I'm doing right.
When we got into the living room I noticed his right eye looked weird and swollen. We just took him to the doctor for an ear infection last Friday (the 6th one since december, they don't tell you about those in the manual), but this morning we had to go in again to get his eye checked out. Sure enough the poor little love has pinkeye. He looks like he went a few rounds with Mike Tyson. Wonderful! That's all our play dates (aka mom's coffee dates) cancelled for this week. Booo to that. So we took the dog to the park, went to pick up eye drops, attempted to put in eye drops, decided should definitely wait for hubby to hold down child while I administer said eye drops, I actually did some housework (well light picking up) and ran some errands before my husband got home and it was time to prepare dinner.
"Mommy's going to make dinner now, go play with Daddy for a few minutes, OK Love?" I said gently.
"No. Mama," he pouted.
"But Mommy has to get dinner ready, go with Daddy."
This time he stood between me and the oven (which luckily wasn't on, I'm more of a quick pasta dinner on the stove type person.) wrapping his arms around my legs and demanding "mamamamama," while stomping his feet.
I looked at my husband who stepped in to take him into the playroom and distract him with his train set, meanwhile the little guy was wailing like his life depended on it. I suppose I should be flattered, but sometimes I just want to ask him, "What the f@*K is wrong with Daddy? I married him, he can't be all that bad can he?!"
After eating (read, throwing on floor for dog to eat) dinner, he was finally distracted enough to allow his father to bathe him while I cleaned up and sat down to write this. I can hear him now, laughing and playing like nothing happened. What an emotional little roller coaster of a child. So perhaps Daddy's not so bad after all. In fact, maybe, just maybe, there will come a time where I can say, "What the f*&k is wrong with mommy?!!" But sadly, I don't think that time will come at 5:50 tomorrow morning. Better get the coffee pot prepared....