"Me do it"

The other night the babies were being sleepyheads and didn't drink that much milk, so I decided to pump a little to start stockpiling the freezer (and ok, I was uncomfortable). Since I've been too lazy to get my electric pump and all it's attachments out of the attic, I plopped down on the couch with my manual pump. Next thing I know, Carter is in my face (ok, in my chest) fascinated by the milk spraying out into the bottle.

One thing you should know (and here I go giving away family secrets) is that my nephews have taught my whole family that nipples are called "pennies". Ben and I find this hysterical, and although we are not children, we have embraced this term in the spirit of immaturity and use it on a regular basis.

Now, Carter has clearly seen me feeding the babies, but this was a wonder all its own. He could actually see the milk coming out. He looked very perplexed. I started to explain what I was doing then thought to myself, "Who am I kidding? The kid thinks this is some kind of squirt gun".

Before I could nudge him away, my angelic child-turned devil's spawn, had grabbed the pump by the handle and squeezed so hard that I thought my penny might rip right off and find it's way back to it's rightful change purse.

It's moments like these that are so spontaneously unexpected, yet in no way surprising when I think of my new life as queen of boy kingdom. Let this serve as a warning...beware of 2 year-olds going anywhere near your ta tas!!!