I found out this week that this summer, a mob of mothers who are tired of having to breastfeed in the shadows, in their cars, in public restrooms, and presumably behind dumpsters, are mad as hell and they're not going to take it anymore: they're going to march on Washington. This comes on the heels of last month's sit-in by nursing moms at Target stores nationwide. A sit-in that led to a public apology from Kasey Kahne after he tweeted that a breastfeeding mom in a store he was shopping in looked "nasty".
Let me be clear: I love boobs. Big boobs, little boobs, floppy boobs, squished boobs, and National Geographic pigmy boobs. If it's on a lady and it has nipples, sign me up. But I'm very serious when I say that, as men, we would have far less of a fascination with them - and ultimately objectify women far less in our society - if our first exposure to them was seeing them used for their given purpose: feeding a baby. Not in a magazine with a staple in the middle, not by stumbling upon some late night spanktravision on Skinamax. We only stare because from an early age we're taught we're not suppose to be looking!
I remember when I was 7, my parents and I went to the movies because my dad wanted to see "Cheech and Chong's Nice Dreams," a film classic that opens with a group of topless women running around on the beach. I remember my Mother grabbing my hand, yanking me out of the theater, buying me the largest soda they sold in the lobby, and telling me I couldn't go back in the theater until I finished it because they don't allow drinks in there (I found out recently that's not true, by the way). Anyway, I remember thinking, "Why am I in trouble because those ladies got naked???" and later on, "I think my tinkle's going to explode because I just drank 72 ounces of Mellow Yellow."
Now for the uptight jackwads who think that it's offensive to see a woman whip out her dairy case and let their kid latch on, I say this: feeding a baby helps it shut up. Just like giving a woman chocolate. Let me get this straight, you'd rather have some poor screaming kid throwing a fit of hysterics so you don't have to have your delicate sensibilities intruded upon while you're waiting for the cashier to ring you up at the Waffle Hut?? You get to eat, why shouldn't junior??
I know, feed 'em with a bottle. A nice room temperature rubber nipple of grainy, mealy formula that was mixed with tap water 3 hours ago. Sounds delicious. I guess you carry a travel mug full of Metamucil when you go shopping in case you decide you need something on your stomach??
Mind you, I'm not just taking issue with the anti-mammary croud on this one. If you're going to unbutton your sweater in public so the milk wagons are open for business, I get to watch. And you can't give me the stink eye. Remember, I never got to watch this when I was little, and now I'm a grown man and when I think about what boobs are for Pamela Anderson and Dolly Parton come to mind. It's too late for me now, society made me this way and it's not my fault.
In closing, I'm going to just say it's time to grope, er, grow up. I mean, not for me, I'm a lost cause. But you can still break the cycle. If you need me, I'll be off hanging out in the maternity ward, looking pathetic while I hold a dry bowl of cereal...
Hey, what can you latch on to if you don't hold on to your dreams? Oh, that's right - b( . )( . )bs.
