Remember when you were first dating your wife? Those first few dates when all you could really focus on was what she looked like naked? You know what I'm talking about - those first few dates where she'd flash you some cleavage and about a half inch of her black lace, see-through bra and it drove you nuts with anticipation. She knew what you wanted to see, but she made you work for it: the date planning, the late-night calling, the wooing- it was all part of her master plan. She saw your eyes, even if you weren't even remotely looking at her own, and knew exactly the kind of man you were. There's no legs or thighs in your bucket of chicken- you're a breast man all the way. And there is nothing you enjoyed more than the 'big reveal' of seeing your wife's breasts for the first time... except for seeing your buddy's wife's breasts every time she whips them out to feed her baby!
We're men ladies. We're not mature adults. From the day you started dating our buddy we've been wondering what you've been hiding under your sweater. It's what we were designed to do. Funny thing is, you made him wait three weeks to catch a glimpse of your marvelous mounds of well-formed flesh. All I had to do was bring a gift to the hospital. It's shocking! "Here's your gift" BAM!...free peep show. And I'm talking full breast and 90 % areola (once you get a good angle around that bald baby's head). I don't even think you get to see that much exposed skin at some U.S. strip joints (not that I've ever been).
When do women make this 'switch?' One day you're making your future husband work for a mere glimpse of your mammary glands, then you have a kid and suddenly you're giving free admission to any guy in the food court at the local mall. Oh, you think no one's watching when you whip out that five pound jug of milk, or 'breast' if you prefer, and softly suction (or 'latch') your baby's mouth to it, but you're wrong- dead wrong. Not only is every guy in the room staring at you, but each is having one of only two possible reactions: he's either turned on by it or equally as turned off by it. There's no happy medium. One guy's watching you like he just unscrambled the playboy channel, while the next guy is watching you like you're some African Gorilla on the Nature Channel feeding your baby and flinging green sh@# at the camera. But they're watching. And you're poor husband, "the Protector" in nature, is watching them and their peering eyes, knowing that he got the raw end of the deal.
Hey. I'm not against breast feeding. To the contrary, I'm all for it. I like how it takes even the most modest of modern feminists and turns them into Zulu Warrior women from the pages of National Geographic. If you want to sit in a restaurant with a baby hanging from your breast, I've got no problem with it, as long as you're not my wife, and you don't mind the old-guy sitting next to me, and every other guy in the restaurant, leering at you. We can't help it! Your breasts were designed to feed babies. Our eyes were designed to find breasts that can feed babies. In our modern society, with our laws (both spoken and unspoken), the two kind of work against each other. But, you'll never hear me complaining about it.
Frankly, I'm upset that more women aren't able to breast feed, or for that matter don't want to. No, not so I can stare, but so my wife won't be the only one in the restaurant being leered at. And dude, don't tell me you're "just admiring what a cute baby I have;" I used that on some other dude's wife last week. You're admiring the gi-normousness (not a word) of my wife's breasts, and all I can say is, thank god they won't be recognizable to me, or you, in a year from now. It was just a dream. A large, double-breasted, milk filled dream that had to end (until the birth of my next child at least).
Anyway, whichever way you 'look' at it, breast feeding is a wonderful thing. Every woman should look into giving it a try. Both the Breast Feeding Committee of Canada, The Infant Feeding Action Coalition, and myself (possibly for different reasons though) agree - breast feeding is the way to go. Take my word for it - it's fun for the whole family.