As I straighten my house and prepare for the impending arrival of family and friends, I noticed something different this year. BREAST MILK. Not only is my urban loft decorated with breast pump paraphernalia but I keep running across (crusty and dried up) breast milk in the oddest places. I am rather certain the breast milk is reproducing on its own. Surely, I could not have dribbled all over the house. Well, at least not in the hard to reach places, like behind the sofa.
I mean come on, behind the sofa? How on earth did it get there? I am really scratching my head on that one.
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=3c9fafba-e3f0-47c2-b469-fb42d9c535f9)
![kellytirman.theopenskyproject.com?opensky[skcode]=61](http://www.kellytirman.com/wp-content/themes/thesis_16/custom/rotator/opensky.gif)
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Let’s see, you picked the baby up to burp her and she spewed a little milk behind the sofa. That’s my guess.
Somehow, mine always ends up on the computer screens.
Ha ha, that is a riot. I pulled out a pair of shoes I hadn’t worn in quite some time (my youngest son is now 20 months, and I stopped nursing him at 14 months) and found that the top of one of the shoes had those telltale marks on them. Must have been from a pumping trip at work…which means I wore it around the office that way the rest of the day.