Middle Man was a newborn and we decided to run a Marine Corps 5k. So we strapped he and Big Brother into their new double jogging stroller and headed off to yet another tommimom-prompted event (i.e. “C’mon! It’ll be fun! Trust me!”)
This line would also be used later to convince Micah to run the Tough Mudder with me. But that’s a story for another time.
Anyway. We arrived early in the morning, registered, and waited around in a sea of Marines and their families. Middle Man would have to nurse before we commenced our trot (I’m more of a trotter than a runner) and so I moved to the back of the crowd, pulled out my ‘hooter hider’, and sat down on the grass. I pride myself in being a discrete nurser.
And that’s when the entire crowd of thousands of Marines and their families turned in unison to face me. Because I was sitting….nay….NURSING…under the American Flag and the Opening Ceremonies were beginning. So I just sat there, suddenly horrified at how brightly colored my ‘hooter hider’ was and how loudly my son nurses, as my husband and all his fellow Marines stood at attention.