I was sitting on the loo a little earlier, the door burst open and she marched in.
“Milky Mummy, Hope want milky”.
“OK, bunny, just wait a minute, of course you can”.
She lent over and patted the front of my jumper, lent forward and kissed me and then turned and wandered off.
Two minutes later I came into my ‘office’ to find her standing on the floor looking up at different breastfeeding pictures, the ones I’d been looking at for my latest piece at Huff Post, mainly of the two of us but a few from various nursing websites, “Milky Mummy … lots of milky”, she picked up the breastfeeding book that was open on the desk and examined one of the images, “lady’s milky Mummy”, she said pointing at the mother’s breasts, “lady little bit of milky, not much milky, funny nipple”, I looked at the picture and said, rather vaguely, “everyone is different Hopey, all in different shapes and sizes, large ones, small ones, all different”, that seemed to satisfy her curiosity, she put the book back giving the picture one last quizzical glance .
She turned and followed me out of the room and over to our favorite ‘feeding’ chair.
Today, she wanted her milky standing up, she chose the left side first, “deeeeelicious Mummy”, and then went to walk round to the right side. She stopped, stepped back, looked intently at my chest, smiled and and announced, “my Mummy has BIG milkys, lucky Hopey”.
