Ah the joys of breastfeeding. I don’t know that I’ve ever cared about anyone enough to sacrifice this much of my personal space or to willingly offer up a body part for spontaneous encroachment. Yet here I am. One meal at a time.
Yes Fiona, what’s that you say? You’d like second breakfast? Will that be right booby or left? Very good. Careful not to bruise it there dumpling.
I pointed out to Mark that we were saving money with this feeding method. He said, where once he had to wine and dine these suckers, now they’re saving us money. That is if you put the Similac money away for college.
Yes Fiona, what’s that? You are ready for your pre-lunch snack? Would you like a little truffle oil on that nipple? Maybe followed by an apéritif of booby? Excellent choice.
Fiona’s Favorite book : Good Night Boob
Fiona’s Favorite songs: It’s a Booby Kinda Love
Fiona’s Favorite Word: Boobaliciuos
Fiona’s Favorite Movie: What About Boob
Fiona’s Favorite Drink: Booby straight up with a twist
Nothing can mess with your mind more than the thought of keeping something dear to you alive with a bodily emission you have no control over. This caused a train wreck with my attempt to booby feed my first child.
What’s that Fiona? More booby juice? Did you say please?
But once you, and your family (read 8-year-old), get over the “ewess-ness” of the deed, you can all relax and lead a semi-normal life. My friend said she saw a mom at the Orlando Universal theme park with a baby hanging off her booby. Everybody’s doing it.
For the record, my boobies are retiring their service before 2014. And hopefully the booby juice will make Fiona super smart and give her the ability to pick nice boyfriends. Ooh, gotta go. The Divine Ms. Fi would like her nightcap now.