I don’t know why the nursing is such a hot topic for me right now, but here’s another tale of the lactating bosoms.

So, I am sort of past the pumping stage with Spider.  Instead, when I need relief from engorgement and I have no baby nearby, I hand express.  I have found myself doing this in public bathroom stalls when the pain necessitates it, and this evening I did a little "expression" in our own bathroom.  Spider had decided she was finished, and there was no way I could go to bed in my current state.

In walks Engineer.  

Now, Engineer is 5 and a boy.  So maybe he shouldn’t see my bosoms, or maybe it’s okay.  I just figure that nursing is a part of life and if I don’t act all embarassed about it, that he will grow up with a healthy respect of the functioning female anatomy.  At the very least, he won’t freak out when his own wife decides to breastfeed their children.

The following conversation ensued.

E:(giggling) It squirts milk!
Me: Yep.  (Pause, as I think of a devilish question to lead the witness.)  Do yours squirt milk?
E: Nope, because I don’t have big ones like yours.  I just have little ones.  (Begins unzipping his footed pajamas.)  See?  (Points to his chest).  They’re just belly buttons. 
Me: (Suppressed laughter).
E: They only work with toy babies.

And then I run to the computer to blog it.  Because even if none of you think its funny, it’s going to make for some great embarassment come the teenage years.  And that kind of blackmail is always good to have around.