As if this morning's Laundry Incident wasn't enough damage to my dignity... Jacob has a new trick. After his breakfast, he had this intense look on his face and grabbed at my shirt. "MMMMMMMMMM!" he insisted. "Bah-bah-bah MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!"
(note: He says "mmmm" when he's hungry. As in "Mmm-mmm-mmm, isn't this strained whatever-it-is GOOD? Mmmmmm." It's a good thing I didn't sing In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida while I feed him, Lord knows what he'd have come up with. )
Anyway, I naturally assumed he wanted to nurse, so we settle back and Assume the Position. Jacob latches, pauses, pulls his head back to critically examine the Goods and then thoughtfully opens his mouth again.... nurse? oh no. He instead decides to use the breast as a kazoo.
After five minutes of Boob Kazoo, I offer him a bottle instead, which he wolfed down.*
This scene has repeated itself all day long. Apparently I am no longer viewed as The Milk Bar, I am now Jacob's One Boob Band.
And again, this causes my husband great amusement indeed.
*lest anyone worry that it is time to wean, Jacob is a NICU grad who didn't even get the hang of nursing until he was about 6 1/2 months old. Me and my Ameda Purely Yours have a love/hate relationship in support of Jacob's nutritional needs. Moo.