I broke my engagement with NaBloPoMo. You noticed? Yes, well, let me tell you, I stand by my decision. This was not a blogging fail but rather a very deliberate refusal to blog daily. It was fun for the first few days, but it was a huge time and energy suck. I ran out of things to talk about, and was always rushing against the clock so I didn't even feel like I was saying things well. I guess people who successfully complete a BloPoMo have an arsenal of topics or even pre-written posts they can draw from. I didn't have that. So I let it go. And it was awesome. I had time to read, catch up on Dexter and the Walking Dead, go out and have a life and not have to blog before bed. Done.
Now I can get back to regaling you with hijinx that result in conversations you don't want repeated at preschool. Like this one.
The setting: Sam and I in the bathtub together the other night. He is staring at my boobs because, well, they are at his eye level. He is washing his chest.
Sam: Can we go nipples to nipples?
Me: . . . No, thank you.
Me: Well, nipples are very personal and I don't really like mine being touched.
Sam: . . . (thinking) . . . Why are my nipples not long?
Me: (stifling laughter) Well, you're a little boy and I'm a Mummy, and I have fed two babies with my nipples. Feeding babies makes nipples long.
Sam: . . . (thinking. and now touching his nipples) . . . maybe when I`m older I can feed a baby with my nipples.
Me: (what can I say . . . ?) Maybe. But usually only women can feed babies from their nipples.
Sam: Maybe I can be a woman when I get older.
Oh, Sam : ) I love your simple conclusions. You can be whatever you want when you get older, whatever makes your heart happy.