“No, Mama Steph, go away. I want Mama Sabby to read to me!” These words from my 3-year-old daughter, Marty, level me like the most withering insult. Lately, her extreme favoritism for my spouse, Sabrina, has reached new heights. She even gets mad if I peck Sabrina on the cheek or place my arm around her seat as she drives. I distinctly remember rebuffing my dad’s affections and interfering with his attempts to kiss or hug my mom when I was a kid. It makes me wonder: Am I the dad in this family? At one time, I might have...