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.