poor Dyami

Dyami has been a little down because Lucy won't let him comfort her at night.
When Dyami comes home from work, she is ecstatic to see him. She crows like a rooster. She laughs. She giggles. He takes her to the bathroom. She babbles at him.
Then he starts the nighttime routine (the shortened, much more sane night routine, BTW).
She immediately gets upset.
"She's too smart," he says. "She knows what she wants, and she knows I don't have it."
We decided to have him do first round of bedtime wind down and first response comforting if she wakes up. The hope is that she will get used to it at some point and he will be able to comfort her.
A month ago, he had the magic touch and could get her to fall back asleep when I was pulling my hair out.
Now she wants nothing to do with him after we turn out the lights.
Poor Dyami. It's kind of hard on him.
I'm disappointed to--I would really love him to be able to comfort her. Gosh, it would be nice to hand off some nighttime duties. (And honestly, even him trying unsuccessfully makes me feel better--at least I'm sharing the duties).
Though some completely insane part of me is happy to be so--essential. See, I was convinced that Dyami would be a superior parent (and he probably is, considering I have the boobs). So to be able to do something he can't--
Gosh. What an achievement. Great. Really great. Oh, good, Lucy's waking up--and I'm the only one who can comfort her.

Sheesh. Poor me.