Do I have to say it again? I ain’t lactating, dammit!

Mopsy here. Yes, when I get really, really angry, I say ain’t. And right now, I am hopping mad. Truly.

Once again, due to Flopsy’s foibles, I am forced into a situation because The Body can’t treat us as individuals. It’s insulting.

Flopsy has been missing her one True Love so much that all she can do these days is cry, cry, cry and heave a sob, then cry some more. It got so bad that The Body was getting a little embarrassed  because all of Flopsy’s tears made her shirts wet as if she were a leaking, nursing Mom. Not that leaking or nursing or being a Mom are bad things, except when you aren’t one. Then, it’s just weird.

The Body tried to console Flopsy and even let her speak to her one True Love on the phone a few times. Truthfully, that just made things much worse. Flopsy started crying even more! The Body really got pushed over the edge when walking past a bar and was lasciviously asked to join a wet t-shirt
contest.

In desperation, The Body went out and bought a nursing bra. It’s horrible! It’s terrible! I feel like I am suffering from claustrophobia all the time and I can’t breathe. Do you know nursing bras chafe the skin? If I can’t breathe then it may kill my brain cells and I will be in danger of being kicked out of Mammary Mensa and will have to step down as the Chair.

This distresses me to no end. Simply because Flopsy can’t get a grip, I have to suffer.

And I ain’t lactating, dammit!

Things got worse when Flopsy started having panic attacks and kept filling up her cup with tears. She almost drowned once or twice. With the True Love all the way in California, there would be no one to give her mouth-to-mouth. She decided poke little holes in the bra so she could breathe. First, can I just say for the record that I feel it was very unfair of her to do that without telling me. I am the one keeping it together and I am the one being punished due to Flopsy’s tears.

Flopsy got a hold of a pin left by Inspector 56 on a new shirt that The Body bought. Flopsy then poked a zillion tiny holes into the nursing bra, making something like a watering can top out of it. They say that necessity is the mother of invention and it must be true. This is wickedly brilliant, especially for a breast like Flopsy who usually relies on me to come up with the bright ideas.

Things are strained between us right now.

The Body, without knowing about the holes, went to the supermarket. Flopsy managed to hold it together until we got to the checkout line. Then she lost it, started hyperventilating and out came the waterworks. There was The Body, standing at the checkout line with multiple streams of Flopsy-tears running down the left side of her body. It wasn’t a little spot mind you, but an absolute torrent. It was then that I realized the holes were in the shape of a heart.

The Body had to wring out her shirt when we got home. She took off the nursing bra to inspect it. Aaaahhhh sweet air! The Body was really very cross with Flopsy when she saw the holes. But when The Body noticed the shape of the heart, she started to melt. She immediately tossed that wretched bra over the waterspout to use in the garden this spring and hopped onto the internet.

Flospy, The Body and I spent the rest of the evening on the phone with our True Loves looking at hotels for a getaway on the Oregon Coast. This made Flopsy brighten tremendously.

We’ll make up soon. I’m sure of it. It’s just that it’s hard to live in close proximity with such a drama queen. Then again, how long can you go without talking when you share not only The Body, but the bra and nightshirt too.