Christmas Day. We’re at Ryan’s aunt’s house. I’m surrounded by his mom’s side of the family, all of whom I get along with very well. But being the modest mom I am, instead of pulling my boob out in front of everyone, I go into the living room to feed Lyric.
We’re sitting there quietly, she’s covered up with a blanket just eating away. Ryan’s adoptive second cousin, this very strange little 9 year old, walks into the room. This little girl freaks me out. She has big crazy eyes and asks strange questions. (See, even though I’m a mom, I still don’t like other people’s kids.)
"Is she sleeping again?"
"No, she’s eating"
She gives me a strange look, then looks down at the lumpy blanket covering my chest and lap.
"How is she eating under there?"
I decide to ignore her, but she keeps pressing.
"Is she eating a bottle?"
I shake my head, wondering how I can possibly explain this to a little girl who obviously has no idea that boobs make milk that feed babies.
I start to grimace, but suddenly Ryan’s aunt walks into the room and saves me by shooing her out. I thank my lucky stars for her impeccable timing. Then I think, "I’m so blogging about this."