Sippy Cup

Throughout our lives we're seen in many different ways. At various times we are seen as child, woman, daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, etc.

At present, I am Sippy Cup.

Bethany has added a dimension to my title of Mistress of Lactation. When she's not tired enough to use me as a pillow, she actually nurses...for approximately 2.3 minutes. Then she goes happily about her business (flirting, mostly) until such time as she is thirsty again.

I'm not sure how I feel about being identified with brightly colored, character-festooned plastic receptacles for fermenting juice (albeit 100% juice, but it's usually fermented, let's face it). Granted, some would argue that there are fermented things in my mind, but being denigrated to "Holder of My Favorite Liquid" is a little unsettling. I sometimes wonder why we subject ourselves to this servitude. It offers no monetary reward, we can't get college credit for it, and we frequently get rude looks when we do it in public. So why do we do it?



Have you at any other time in your life ever felt so loved, needed, and enjoyed?



Me, neither.