No, I haven’t any milk.

Last night I had the most amazing post rattling about in my head, or so it seemed at the time. I was poised and ready to write when Devon came shuffling into my office nook. I expected to feel him crawl up the back of my chair and then wrap himself around my neck and whisper, which for him means shouting, into my ear that he wanted me to get away from the computer and come play with him. When he kept standing there waiting for my attention I looked up to find him mostly naked, covered in green marker and holding a blue funnel in one hand and the end of the cord in the other. On the other end of the cord was a small crock pot. Both items he had rummaged out from one of the lower kitchen cabinets.
Once Devon had my attention he announced at the top of his lungs, “You take you shirt off, Mai-Mai! You take it off and put this (holding up the funnel) on you boobie! You put it on you boobie and make me some milk!”
I sat dumbfounded and stared from the crockpot to the funnel to his expectant little face, which prompted him to bellow again, “Take off you shirt! Now!”
Never really knowing quite how to demand his ongoing desires to again nurse, I said, “Well, um, hmmm. Devon let’s go in the kitchen and get one of your new sippy cups and get you some of your special purple (got milk comes in a purple container around here) milk.” He thought it over for a few moments as he spied my breasts, looked at the funnel and then turned on his heel and made off for the kitchen.
That was the last straw in my day. I was simply too exhausted to give it another go after that. I don’t know where or when Devon has seen an electric breast pump. I don’t know why he continues to ask me for “boobie milk”, we stopped nursing almost 18 months ago. My other kids weren’t like this. Of course I didn’t nurse them as long. Loren was about 6 or 7 months. Cass was about 4 months. I hope Devon outgrows this by adolescence.