The good: when you don’t clean out your vehicle after a road trip, you find goodies, like two cans of LiveWire in the road cooler, that you can enjoy on your way to school the next day.
The bad: when you’re 28 and you think that you can begin to drink chocolate milk without worrying about that troubling childhood lactose intolerance, you can’t. It still makes your stomache ache and gurgle and your intestines swell into painful twisted balloon animals.
And the monster:
Walking back to the car today from school, I was thinking about a blog entry that talked about running + nursing = sometimes you can’t run. I was thinking this because after a week away from school (where I was nursing on a semi-regular schedule), being back at school for a day made for some pretty uncomfortable milk-makers, ones that I wouldn’t want to, you know, take for a jog.
But I continued thinking: you know, there’s probably some people (like the people I see on a regular basis) that might not want to hear about rock-like mammaries. I might have to start the post with a cut that said something like, “Hey, this post is about some personal stuff, so if you don’t want to read something about me that is potentially embarrassing, do not click “To read the rest of…”
But then I remembered a book that I LOVED as a child called _A Monster at the End of this Book_. Grover was the main character, who with every page turn warned (and pleaded) with the reader to QUIT TURNING PAGES because there was a MONSTER at the end of the book. Grover built brick walls (which were crumbled with the next page turn) to prevent the reader from reading on.
Any disclaimer I would use to warn people away might just compell them to read on; heck, when I was a kid I couldn’t wait to find that monster, [spoiler warning] who was, incidentally, Grover. Not so scary after all. [/spoiler]
And me talking about the fact that I can’t run when Josh hasn’t nursed in 8 hours doesn’t seem so scary or gross now, either, does it?