So tonight we went over to PJ & J's for a end-of-the-year barbeque with Hubby's discipleship group. Thankfully, it was at PJ & J's, because they have two little girls--one about a year old, and the other just a little younger than the twins--and thus lots of little girl toys.
C, the younger of the two, is still nursing.
That's important.
While J munchkin-wrangled, the rest of us ate and talked and played Apples to Apples (hilarious game). In a stroke of dumb luck and shrewd choosing of my red Apple cards, I won. I felt bad that J was out wrangling kids all by herself, since three of them were mine and she kept accumulating neighbor girls, but I also knew the most I could do, at four days post-op, was sit there with my cane and look threatening.
By the time we left (we're almost always the last ones to leave any gathering), it was well past bedtime. We came home and promptly gave orders for jammies and potty, fast.
Small Fry came over to stand next to me, where I was sitting at my desk, and snuggle against my arm.
So cute.
And suddenly, so weird.
She's giving me little nibbly kisses on my upper arm. And grinning. And not quite giggling.
I looked down at her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm getting miwlk fwom youwr awrm."
What?
"Where did you get this idea?" I asked, as the nibbly kisses continued. (Come to think of it, it was almost like I would imagine goldfish "kisses" to feel like.)
"Fwom you."
She continues to grin adorably at me.
And then we realize that she's not wearing a Pull-up, so I squeezed her cheeks and sent her off to get one. Hubby went to unearth the shorts for the jammies she'd picked out.
Everybody is going up to bed when she pokes her head back into the living room.
"I want to get some miwlk fwom you again."
I try to stifle my grin and hold out my arm. I gave her a hug while she nibble-kissed on my right arm this time.
She then scooted on up to bed.
And the only thing I can think of is that she's seen J nursing C, and J has told her that this is how mommies give their babies milk, and J uses a cover-up that pretty much covers from shoulder to waist when she nurses C...
And Small Fry now thinks milk comes from my arms.
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