Warning this post contains semi-explicit language.
It has been a strange evening. I had one of those moments where, as a parent, I had absolutely no game.
James and I were hanging out on the couch, and he pulled off his shirt. He was eating, and he frequently pulls off his shirts to avoid spilling, no biggy. The question that he asked threw me for a loop. In a sweet, slightly hesitant tone, he asked “Mama, did you milk me from your nips?”
Ummmmm? Huh? Really, did that just happen? Maybe he asked me if I milked him from my hips…but no that question is just as stunning. He noticed my deer in the headlights look of near panic, and helpfully pointed to his chest to clarify the region in question. I mentally cycled through several answers, but absolutely nothing seemed appropriate given his age and I didn’t want to stifle his inquisitive nature, but so wasn’t prepared to discuss this…. GAH!
My oh so wonderful answer was, “we’ll talk about that when you are older.” Yes, I’m that smooth. I think I earned roughly negative 100 parent points with that one.
Here’s what happened after nipgate. In the past two minutes, James announced that our friends from Canada are from VanCOUGER. He stripped down to his skivvies to explain the finer points of pirate sword-play then jogged in place to demonstrate his strength. Then he fell to the floor completely exhausted and announced that he was so very angry because our friends from VanCOUGER weren’t here yet- huff pout. Seriously, it has been an odd night.