Looks like I'm woefully outnumbered here. It might have something to do with the following story:
When I was a kid, my brothers and I would have to drink milk surreptitiously because if my dad saw us doing it, he'd fly into a rage. No joke. No clear reason to it, he'd just get really mad. So I was always functioning on a milk deficit.
Maybe that helped inflate the value of milk in my mind. Now there are days when it's all I can drink. Besides whiskey, I mean.
I want to know why your father was so enraged? Any ideas?
Also, I wonder if you've got "milk" on the brain because currently your wife is having to nourish two infants. I can't imagine having to do that for one, yet alone two. Logistically I'm not even sure how that works.
Growing up my dad was a riddle. An angry, angry riddle. Funny, because now he's unflappable, and a lot of fun to hang out with.
You should see the pillow made for nursing twins. It's more architecture than upholstery.
That is a fantastic picture, by the way. That kid looks like he's brimming with character. Is he as much of a ham as the pic suggests?
- Is he as much of a ham as the pic suggests?