Ode to The Boob

Everyone needs a bosom for a pillow

I am a human dummy. The Monkey adores the Boob. He gently caresses it with his malcoordinated fists. Sometimes he takes a dive for it with a hungry grunt. He just cannot get enough of my boobies.

The Boob is the only thing guaranteed to stop tears, or send him off to sleep. Sometimes just having his head resting on my ample bosom - the nipple just in reach - keeps him calm. The Boob is even better than the miracle sling (which seems to be losing its magic touch recently) and comes up trumps against Mummy's Fat Friend's dulcet tones singing George Michael's 'Faith'. Sometimes I catch The Monkey sleep sucking as if he's dreaming of it.

Consequently I have a tendency to shove The Magic Boob into the Monkey's mouth whenever he grumbles. And I think The Monkey may now have an addiction. I swear he gets withdrawal jitters. And he's mastered the art of doing his 'hungry' sign, even when he's clearly full to bursting. I fall for it every time. Like a dummy...

I'm starting to wonder if he'll ever be able to sleep without a quick suckle on the nip. The sensible thing would be for Bubba to suck to his heart's content on a dummy. But, oh no, a dummy isn't nearly as warm and squidgy and comforting as Mummy's boobies. Am I destined to whip the baps out every time he melts down in public? Breastfeeding is one thing. But negotiating the supermarket with a nip poised in wee one's mouth to stop him screaming, is that socially acceptable?