Meet Harry and Sally

The only thing I remember from my French lessons besides je ne parle pas francais is the fact that everything french is either male or female. The french are smart because they know stuff like how a doormat is indisputably male. But for me, it has always been a pain to figure out what stuff is masculine or feminine.

I’ve finally figured it out though. My boobs – they’re both. My right boob is a dude and my left one is a chick. It’s been puzzling me for a while now, and eureka! I’ve got it.

Everyone, meet Harry and Sally.

See, all this time that I’ve been expressing milk, I’m thinking that there’s a central milk storage system that channels all the milk to one side or the other. Like how if you tilt an hourglass, all the sand falls to the side that’s lower.

I usually start off with the right side. Let’s call him Harry. I go for 30 minutes on the pump and I get about 100ml. Harry is oozing with testosterone and always ready to go. Basically, it’s a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am no nonsense affair. Get in, get out and he’s done. And I always know when he’s done because there will be a steady flow of milk all the way till it almost completely stops. That’s my cue to switch sides.

The left boob, she’s definitely a lady. When it’s Sally’s turn, it’s a little different. I used to do the same thing – 30 minutes on the pump but I only get 30ml. At first I thought, oh, ok maybe all the milk has flowed over to the right side and there’s no more left. Then I googled it and turns out, no. Each boob gets its own reserve of milk. So what up, Sally? What are you doing with all that milk?

I decided that Sally was spoilt (I mean spoilt like broken, not spoilt like throwing a tantrum) but hey, at least I still have one good boob so I should be thankful. All this while, I’ve been assuming Sally was retarded but now I find out that she’s actually a woman.

Which is to say, she can’t be hurried. She’s perfectly capable of producing plenty of milk, but she’s a little shy. She needs to have Kenny G in the background, some candles, a back rub and whispers of sweet nothings. You’ve got to treat her right before she gets in the mood. And here’s the awesome thing. Once she’s there, she can keep going and going and going. Seriously, once she’s on a roll, SHE DOES NOT STOP.

I had a little experiment yesterday and after an hour, she’s still producing milk. I did 150ml on that one boob alone.

Now I’m smarter and I’ve got a system going. During the day when the kids are thronging me, Harry steps up and does his thing. 30 minutes and bingo. Then after the kids are asleep and I’ve got more time on my hands, Sally gets her turn so she doesn’t feel neglected. How do you say awesome in french?