I wear the boobs in this family:
pale, blue-veined, and larger than they’ve ever been before.
Oozing with milk.
My boy does not want rice cereal,
sweet potato, avocado, banana, or mushy peas.
No! My boy cries for me,
the resident popsicle. Slurp, slurp, slurp!
Breakfast, lunch, dinner,
morning snack, afternoon snack, midnight snack.
It’s 5 A.M. and I’m up with the boobs.