Despite my usually admirable discretion, I will tell you that this morning I saw a bearded woman breastfeeding a baby and I can't just let that shit slide. I must go public.
Today started off like any other day. We woke up, got dressed, and met my Fussy Friend Stacey and her daughter for breakfast. After breakfast we met up with our pregnant friend Andi and her son Nicholas at the Missouri History Museum for a free concert by Mr. Saxophone.
By the way, typing all of those words in that order brings everything about my life into perspective and I don't like how it sounds one bit.
Anyhoo, so there we were, watching our kids dance like they were on some sort of euphoric heroin trip
when the woman next to me leans over and says "they're really enjoying it, aren't they?"
I look over to smile and notice she has a FULL BEARD. I mean, we're not talking a little stubble. Not a few strays. A FULL BEARD. It was black. And it had a moustache. She engaged me in further conversation and my eyes struggled to maintain contact with hers as the beard acted as a magical magnetic field trying to lure them downward with its beautifully tantalizing force.
My eyes were starving to take a look so once we were finished talking I pretended like I was looking past her so I could discreetly get my fill of this thing. And I quickly had to look away because I could feel my pancake start to claw its way up from a warm place of comfort in my stomach.
A few minutes later I was ready for another good stare but she was gone. Where oh where had my little bearded pet run off to?
Well let me tell ya. I looked across the room and there she was, sitting on the sidelines of the dance floor, breastfeeding her one-year-old. No cover, no nothing. In front of a crowd full of people. I've frequenly had nightmares where I would somehow find myself doing the same thing and wake up in a cold panicked sweat.
Okay. Let me first go on record as saying I'm as pro-breastfeeding as the next woman. I breastfed two babies and I know how it is to be stuck in a public place when one of those little suckers needs a snack. However, I'm also anti-bearded-woman's-nipple-all-up-in-my-mix. I mean, the room was full of men, women and pre-pubescent boys who are right now locked in their rooms questioning their sexuality. And by questioning their sexuality I mean sawing their little penises clean off.
I almost didn't write this post because I was afraid that Beard might read it. But upon second thought I hope that she does. I PRAY she does. In fact, please allow me to take a moment to issue a public statement:
I know you've had it tough. I can only imagine what it was like as a young girl, wondering why all your friends had faces like china dolls while yours was that of a wolverine. But you're an adult now, Beard! You have the control! So many options are begging to be taken advantage of. You can shave it, wax it, or if you want to really embrace your womanhood you can laser it off and finally escape the Land of Misfit Toys once and for all.
The fact that you have two kids tells me that you've had sex with someone at least twice, so I'm guessing I speak for more than myself when I enter this plea.
Let me be clear - if you do decide to take action, just because you no longer look like Orson Welles doesn't make it any better when you whip out your boobie in front of a packed roomful of kids. Please... PLEASE... a Hooter Hider... a burp cloth... a Kleenex... ANYTHING!
At the very least, if you're going to insist on doing nothing, please at least grow your beard to a length long enough to cover your lactating nipples.
Everyone in the world who is not blind