(Ke) Oh, Dear Jesus, Liz just sent me a text describing in detail a nipple preparation for breast feeding. It involves "roughing up the nipples with a washcloth" starting once a week working up to once a day to avoid "splitting, cracking, chapping, puss, blood and pain."
(Kr) Oh no. Nipple puss?
(Ke) Her mom's friend's daughter didn't do it and she has blood in her milk. I can not get that image out of my head.
(Kr) Blood milk? Nipple puss? You just sobered me up.
(Ke) I need to rough up my brain with a washcloth to get it out.
(Kr) I'm praying for Alzheimer's.
(Ke) My boobs hurt already.
(Kr) How do you think I feel? You've ruined a perfectly good Sunday night buzz. Now I gotta go to bed. But not because I'm old and tired at 8:30. Just so we're clear.
(Ke) I don't think I'll ever sleep again
(Kr) You will when the baby's in high school. Gotta go night night. Love you.
(Ke) I love you, too, jerkface.
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