A theme has developed as part of our ever-changing family dynamic. My wife is the one who administers the medicine while our daughter squirms like an otter. She also seems to be the one blowing baby’s nose, cutting nails, and wrestling to get her curly hair into bunches, which look super-cute by the way. To avoid any further punishments and discomfort, she toddles to me as fast as her chubby little legs will carry her. In her eyes, I’m the Good Cop. This doesn’t seem fair  ...