The other night was going to put my son to bed and so took off my bra while I sat on the toilet in case I fell asleep and just wanted to go to bed in my sweatshirt. The sight of my nipples caught my dear boy's attention.
"Why are they red?" he asked? Purple might be more accurate, but I guess compared to the pale pink he's used to, they probably do look red. I said something about that just happens in pregnancy. The nipples get dark. He wanted a close-up inspection, to look at whatever is on the tip of my larger-than normal pointers. I agree, it looks kinda funky.
Having nursed for three years, I used to be used to my son looking at my breasts. This, though, was like a rediscovery, as though he'd returned to country he'd forgotten about to find a whole crop of new houses in what used to be an empty field. I put my shirt down. He lifted it up and then tried looking down the front of my shirt when I pushed his hand down.
I got off the toilet, washed my hands, and announced it was time for bed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment