Today, I was in bed, recovering from a stomach bug that hit me the night before. The kids watched cartoons for several hours and made a huge mess in the house. They had a lunch of things Annabelle found in the pantry, and she brought me cups of water and bowls of crackers. Through all of this neglect and tlc, I was in my pajamas. I never spend in amount of time in my pajamas. As soon as I wake up, I put on my makeup, fix my hair, and put on clothes, but today, I was just too sick to care.
Of course it goes without saying that when you wear pajamas, you don't wear a bra.
Annabelle climbed in bed with me, and began to touch my boob. She lifted up my shirt to get a really good look at it. And here is where I was torn-- I could pull down my shirt and say, "no," in a firm, annoyed voice. Or I could be the weird hippy mom that lets it all hang out.
Peace out ya'll.
Anyway, she was looking and started to comment, why is it so pink? What are all those bumps? Are you sure you don't have any milk left? And then: "It is so pretty, I want to kiss it, but I am too scared."
Tallulah had no such reservations. And that's when the uptight WASP in me pulled down my shirt.
Annabelle said, "that is a breast Tallulah. Mommy has breasts. So does grandma, hers a big and long (grandma, the authentic hippy). She also has a big bottom. How big do you think her bottom is mommy?"
"It's just the right size, mija. God made her just right."
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