In the real world, no one is titillated by breastfeeding
I was an aggressive breast feeder. Occasionally when we were out, if my wife raised a concern about being a tad public with getting the boobies out, I told her to go ahead and do it.
If anyone had a problem, they’d have to deal with me. So whenever my baby daughter fed in public, I was like a traffic cop with a radar gun on a lonely highway, just praying for someone to break the law so I could spring into action.
No ever did have a problem with it though. Or if they did, they didn’t raise it directly with us. Probably they didn’t care, or perhaps they noticed my state of anti-breastfeeding alertness and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.
A similar thing happened when she got a tattoo. She worried that people might see the ink and make a negative judgement about her. Once again, I told her to go right ahead and do it. Who gives a shit what people think about your tattoo on your body?
A similar thing happened when we caught our first plane with our kid. We were both worried that the kid might cry and make life difficult for our fellow travellers. But what are the options? Don’t go on holiday?
Drive 20 hours to my brother’s place in South Australia with a 3 month old baby in the back seat? Stuff that. We flew. If the kid cried, the kid cried. All we could do was make every preparation to stop the kid crying and hope for the best.
And of course, the best way to keep a 3 month old baby quiet during take-off and landing is… you guessed it… breastfeeding! It’s comforting for them and the swallowing eases the pressure on the ears.
So there was my wife, wearing a T-shirt with her tattoo clearly visible, breastfeeding a baby on a plane! Oh the humanity! The horror! What is the world coming too? Surely someone would say something. So I was ready for it!
But no-one said anything. Maybe if she were a single mum bludging off the government and conscientiously refusing to vaccinate they might have piped up. Maybe if Kochie was on the plane with us, he might’ve asked her to be a little more discreet. But that didn’t happen, which is kind of a shame really. Me and Kochie nose to nose at 30, 000 feet! That right there is my dream breast-feeding confrontation. Maybe I’ll get a chance at that if we have another kid like everyone keeps telling us to.
Of course, Mums shouldn’t need a hyper-vigilant pumped up dad on hand to look out for them. If you do see a breast-feeding Mum and it concerns you, just grow up. Look somewhere else and forget about it. There are more important things to worry about… like climate change, or religion.
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