Breasts, hands and general confusion

So, having almost completely changed my mind about almost all the things I wrote in my last post – pretty much overnight – I thought I’d write about something funny today.

The first funny thing that happened was a very surprising exchange at the National Portrait Gallery.

I was trying to get into the Cindy Sherman exhibition. But when I asked for my ticket, the lady at the desk gave me a look that, while I couldn’t quite pin it down, definitely had something to do with the fact that I had a baby attached to the front of my body.

So, meeting her gaze and wondering if maybe babies are no longer allowed in the National Portrait Gallery – it was possible – she then explained that I might not want to take my baby into the show as there are some fairly – and she never actually found the word – well… images… 

Slightly stunned, I explained to the lady that my child is still struggling to distinguish between my breast and her own hand, so whatever the exhibition contained was unlikely to disturb her too much.

The lady looked at me silently like I was the fool.

As for my daughter, she fell asleep half way through the show – around the time we got to the fake porn actually. So I’m guessing that she was clearly not that interested. I hope Cindy Sherman won’t take that personally.

It was only later in the day, that I did sink truly low. (I know the lady at the ticket desk would disagree).

To cut a long story short, I took my daughter (who now feeds in only her nappy, because she makes that much of a mess) out of the kitchen post (solid) lunch and into the living room for a second (liquid lunch) – the smaller you are the more food you require apparently (who knew?) – where I discovered hidden remnants of her first lunch hidden in the folds of her nappy. Too exhausted to move myself (back to kitchen and a bin) I decided that the easiest method of food disposal was now to eat these remnants myself.

Eating out of my daughter’s nappy (albeit the outside of it) has to be a new all-time low. But one I’m – for some reason – strangely proud of.

cindy sherman

strangeoldlife

Sarah Nabarro View All →

New mum, old soul... Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)...

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