To the rather loud voice interrupting my meal...

As I was playing Human Milk Factory to Peanut last night, Papa Duck and I started a conversation. Suddenly her little lips quivered, forehead wrinkled and a loud cry came forth from my tiny Peanut.

She seemed to be saying, "Why oh why does that damn head that's attached to my boob insist on ruining my pleasurable dining experiences?"

I honestly think that this is how she sees me.

A great big boob with a head and arms. I'm not even sure that she's aware that I have legs as they really don't provide any sort of up-front gratification for her.

"I'm just a boob, yes, I'm only a boob and I'm meant to be a fee-e-ding tube..." (you can sing this to the tune of "I'm Just a Bill" from Schoolhouse Rock)