In the world of online bulletin boards, this entry would be marked with a warning for TMI.
Feel free to skip this one.
Wednesdays are my marathon days. I bulked up on classes, so I go straight from discussing Theory (very important, don't ask) to meditating on how we teach writing. In between these, there is a brief window of time...40 minutes to be exact. That is when Team Snyder jumps into action. A carefully choreographed dance that requires a pass off from Bubbeh to Dave....then a quick fox trot down to Dinkytown to meet up with the nipples....for a 40 minute milk-o-rama.
He looks like a fresh spring pig as he laps up his milk. Spence refuses a bottle. He'll shake his head in disgust at the nipple fashioned from plastic. So, he is left to wait. Sometimes he wants to tank up for more than the alloted time. Like today.
Which led to me exposing my left nipple to my Teaching Writing class. Spence continued his milk-fest. As he is prone to do as he finishes up his meal, Spence takes in the scenery as he sips. Pulling off the breast, smiling at the world, then grabbing another gulp to wet his whistle. Which leaves a mama's nipple hanging out for her other doctoral candidates to see.
It's funny how motherhood changes things. Like my modesty. Nipple exposure? I'm a beaded Mardi Gras lady. Every day. Multiple times. No need for one of those fashionable "Hooter-Hiders." Apparently, I let them both hang out.