Either way I am not coming off as a bra burning feminist here.
Bella turned to me today as we cuddled on the couch, comically serious.
"Cows make...milk."
"Yes honey, cows make milk."
Bella stopped and stared at me intently.
"And you make..."
Oh, I know where this is going. It's always about the boobs, right? Go ahead, nurse in front of the other children. Be a breastfeeding advocate! Have your children compare you to livestock!
"...dinner??"
Well, I didn't see that one coming. Come on now! You didn't either!
I haven't decided which is worse.
"Cows make...milk."
"Yes honey, cows make milk."
Bella stopped and stared at me intently.
"And you make..."
Oh, I know where this is going. It's always about the boobs, right? Go ahead, nurse in front of the other children. Be a breastfeeding advocate! Have your children compare you to livestock!
"...dinner??"
Well, I didn't see that one coming. Come on now! You didn't either!
I haven't decided which is worse.
posted by Stolidoli at 11:04 PM
1 Comments:
Okay, I can't stop laughing :) And the saddest thing is I wouldn't even know how to answer that question.
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