So yesterday right before services, one of the proud new paps in the congregation was lifting his daughter over his head so I could take pictures. I jokingly told him he should do that right after she has eaten.
"Oh, I've gotten it right in my mouth," was his reply, as my stomach buckled. "It's warm and salty."
I fell to the ground in mock horror and told the pastor's wife I was going to be sick. "There's no time for that right now," she said, laughing.
"OK, I'll do it later," I replied.
My squeamishness with bodily fluids, especially ones that come from babies, is legend amongst my bretheren. I've been told that if I have kids, suddenly I will transform into a puke and spit lover, but as I head into my mid-thirties and having children of my own becomes less of a possibility, I am not going to hold my breath. I'll save that for when I am around other people's soiled babies, LOL!
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