Postcards From The Connoisseur...

While some may prefer to stick with wine, I apparently have shifted towards a more 'natural' delicacy... that being Breast Milk.

Tonight was our typical Friday night... we put the boy down and Par-tayed... woo hoo!!! Party! Being friday and all, we thought we'd get a little crazy, and stay up that extra half hour until 9:30 and watched 'Dodgeball' - the whole thing... Party!!! (Quite literally actually - Dave, kim wants me to ask you if you have ever watched right to the end of the credits??)

Being the weekend and all, I was on call for the Boy. He fussed at 11:58ish - nothing a little 'twinkle twinkle' wouldn't fix. However come 1:30 he had enough of this not eating business and let us know he was hungry as bluntly and obnoxiously as he could.

There is no real middle ground with Gord. It's either "I'm asleep, content, and everything is A-OK," or it's "Holy crap my world is crashing down on me - FEED ME FEED ME FEED ME, OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD FEED ME WHY ARE YOU NOT FEEDING ME". Not even the soother could fool this kid tonight. I had him in the play pen while I heated up the pot of water to warm the bottle... and the boy - screaming. I also had to pee - almost had to cut it off mid stream a couple times as the boy graduated from screaming to all out wailing coughing and cahacking. To be quite honest, I was surprised 'the boss' didn't show up.

The screaming was so loud I could see it. Anyhow, now that the bottle was warming, I tried the usual sample to see if we were ready to go - as of course Gord was quite ready. Well, this is where my new found 'expertise' kicks in. Something just ain't right. Of course that warrants another sample, and another cringed nose reaction.

Hmm... I found myself in a pickle. Kim was upstairs sleeping (or trying to I'm sure) enjoying her 'night off', the screaming caterpillar was making his opinion known, and I'm standing there straight out of a 'Saturday Night Live' skit repeatedly subjecting myself to this apparently rancid milk unable to control myself like a moth to a flame.

I end up calling Kim down for her opinion. Now picture if you can, the two of us, slamming back samples of milk, discussing it's character, texture and not so subtle 'nuances'... all the while Gord is wondering what the Hell is taking so long.

We came to the conclusion that we wouldn't involve Gord in our 'Milk Tour' and we had him eat right off the 'vine'.

I for some friggen reason found myself 10 minutes later back downstairs tasting that blasted milk again - screaming out loud in validation - "Ugh that's sour milk!!"

Cheers.