Mardi Gras

For some reason, Radcliffe is very interested in breast feeding. Interested enough that he has embarrassed me in public several times. This is the conversation we had today:

Radcliffe: ‘Hey, Mom, do your boobs have cooties?’

Me: ‘No, why?’

Radcliffe: ‘Did you feed me with your boobs?’

Me: ‘I did, when you were a baby.’

Radcliffe: ‘Yeah, those were good times. (WTF?!). It’s a good thing you manage to keep your top on nowadays.’

Does this kid even realize the implications of that sentence? On Mardi Gras?

Then, after a conversation about the meaning of his name (King), he says, ‘Yeah, this whole King of Carnivale is turning out to be really boorrriiinnnng.’

I’ll give it a few years and revisit that.

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