The purpose of boobs.

The hour was late and the mood was tense. After a long day of travel, we had missed our connecting flight and were crowded into a dirty van like shuttle set to bus our little crowd of cranky strangers to a nearby hotel. We'd have to sleep here tonight, and continue on to our destination first thing in the morning. My husband climbed into the front seat and the kids and I took the last available seat a couple rows back; baby on my lap and toddler squished between me and a very professional woman clicking away on her smart phone. All was quiet as we pulled away from the curb and merged onto the highway. I am learning that there is something about silence that invites toddlers to share exactly what's on their mind. And so it was just then, when my daughter reached out her little hand to grab the woman next to her's breast and ask loudly, hand lingering on her chest, if she was going to feed the baby? Oh. My. Gosh. I could have died! My daughter persisted and would not stop asking until this patient woman just told her yes, "that's what they're for... sometimes."