Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Slow on the switch

There I was, dandling the grandchild.  Fed, burped, rocking slightly.  Little Monkey reached for the nearly empty bottle, intention clearly etched on his face . . .

I wouldn't drink that.


It's breast milk.

I wasn't going to drink that. I wanted you to think I was. Ha ha!


Too late I realized that I should have said that after he'd chugged; a great moment in Dad history that wil never be.

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