Teatime

Not for the shy or faint of heart . . .

Recently, there had been a lot of press about women nursing their babies.

Usually because it has been carried to extreme lengths.

I nursed my babies.

And loved doing it.

But this isn't a commentary about that.

Though it is about 'extremes'.

Maybe I should explain . . .

A veterinarian friend of my father's had stopped in for a chat.

An immigrant from the UK, he was very fond of his tea.

My father offered him a cup.

Uncharacteristically, he declined. With a slight shudder.

Dad stared at his friend. What could possibly have put Dr. Ilovemytea off his favourite beverage?

The friend realized that he had aroused Dad's curiosity and an explanation was in order. He told Dad that he had just come from a vet call to a farm at the furthest border of his practice. 'Out in the sticks', you might say. His veterinarian business had been concluded.

And successful.

Hoping to prolong what was, to her, the highlight of a normally solitary day, the woman of the household had invited Dad's friend into her front room for a visit. She had recently given birth to a fine son and was anxious to share her story with someone.

All was well.

She and baby were thriving. Baby was nursing well and growing rapidly.

The woman offered the doctor a quick cup of tea before he began the long trek back to town.

Happily, he accepted.

The tea was brewed.

The woman brought it in and set it in front of her guest. “Would you like milk?” she asked.

Dad's friend said that, indeed, yes, he would love milk.

Whereupon (good word) the woman flipped out a breast and squirted some milk into the doctor's tea.

He blinked. Well . . . at least it was fresh.

As the story unfolded, Dad burst into laughter.

“So, did you drink it?” he asked his friend.

“Of course,” the doctor said.

“How was it?”

“Well, it tasted just fine,” he said. “Put me off a bit. But tasted fine.”

“Well,” Dad said, “You're braver than I am!”

Tea, anyone?