Last night, just after supper, I was whining to Brad about being a milk machine (Megan nurses a lot during the day, but I usually don't mind because she sleeps so well at night), so Brad nicely offered to feed her for me. The little boy with very good ears (who I sometimes forgets can hear and understand everything we say) looked very puzzled, then chirps in,
"But Daddy, you don't have big boobs."
(hmmmm...where did he learn that word...aunties?)
It gave us a laugh...guess you had to be there...
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