On August 24, 2003, I took a big step. I breastfed an inconsolable baby at the table in our favorite restaurant. Normally, I would slink into the bathroom and hide behind the privacy of a stall door. But Mikro was insistant, and my Tshirt was long. So I stuck him up under the shirt and he ate. (Now that I think about it, it actually isn't the very first time I breastfed him in public, if you call a deserted beach public... but there were lots of people around this time.)
Then, a week later, same bat-time, same bat-channel, same bat-restaurant, he wanted to do it again. My Tshirt wasn't as long, but I had this long pareo thingie that I bought at a pier in Key West, so I tied it over my shoulder and across my chest, and we did our thing.
I figured that must have been scads more discreet than the prior occassion. Well, last night my helpful spouse informed me that, much to my dismay, I managed to flash the entire restaurant in the process...
Oh well. It isn't going to stop me, but it does make my face burn red.
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