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April 17, 2012

Went to my son and daughter-in-law’s place for breakfast the other day, as I take my granddaughter to daycare in the morning to save her parents a bit of wear and tear, and Gabe puts out a hearty breakfast for me.

breast feeding

A thing of beauty 'tis, the tit, and the mother and the infant too.

At the table I repeated a witticism from the previous night’s pre-theater dinner. As the dessert was coming to the table, I assured everyone there (strangers, all, with whom my wife and I were sitting) that I’d already had my dessert. Really? they inquired. Sure, I said. When we came in, all the young mothers were seated outside the door breast-feeding. (Oh, my, how delightful! I didn’t stare, much Or drool, much. A perfectly civilized geezer was I.)

Heidi, my Norski daughter-in-law, just stared at me for about 10 seconds and then hissed, “You’re really repulsive, you know? You don’t even try to censor yourself !”

At which I laughed uproariously. “Delighted to get a rise out of you so early in the morning, my dear!”

And Gabe, a bit embarrassed perhaps, allowed as to how his pa and his daughter, Ruby, both liked boobies.

“Boobies! Boobies! Boobies! Boobies!” Ruby chanted, not censoring herself at all.

Yes, Ruby and I have some kind of infantile understanding, evidently. We rarely censor ourselves at all, and we get in trouble.

Odd, though, that it’s Hedi, an R.N., who taught Ruby to use the word “pussy,” which she does with sometimes embarrassing results, as at daycare the other day. Sue, the provider, took Gabe and Heidi aside and whispered, “Ruby said ‘pussy!’ She can’t say that here!”

I dare say not. Think of the scandal that would ensue. A four year old with a pussy. I mean, talking about her pussy. And the other kids, mostly younger, asking — as has happened before — what’s a pussy?

In the same spirit, of a chastised kid, I ask, what’s a boobie that it frightens some folks so?

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