Mother's milk

I’ve been studying photos of Alicia Richman, the Texas mother who donated 87 gallons of her breast milk to charity. She is nothing like the buxom matron I imagined her to be. Her figure, indeed, is remarkably svelte. It just goes to show that you can’t judge a dairy by the size of its cows. If the herd is contented, the milk will flow freely.

It all makes sense when you think about it. A woman who copiously secretes a creamy substance from her nipples has a fool-proof method of eliminating surplus body fat. Donating milk could be the next big thing for the health and fitness industry. Feel like having an extra helping of dessert? Go right ahead. Just remember to give your breasts an extra pumping in the morning.

Mrs Richman’s remarkable outflow has been recognised as a Guinness world record. She credits this achievement to her rigorous milking regime:

“I pumped at work, on vacations, in the car. And I never had to buy formula.”

Is it my imagination, or is there something weirdly obsessive about her behaviour? Anyone would think that having a white fluid sucked out of your body was enjoyable. One struggles to think of a precedent.

When I told the manager of the safari camp about Mrs Richman, he frowned and shook his head.

“I pity her husband,” he said. “He must worry about getting squirted in the eye whenever he fondles her boobs.”

This concern seemed exaggerated to me.

“Isn’t it possible to caress a woman’s breasts without squeezing them like udders?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “You haven’t done them justice unless you grope them firmly and suck them too. What’s he supposed to do if milk starts pouring into his mouth?”

“Drink it?” I suggested.

“Ugh!” grunted the manager. “I’d rather drink dishwater!”

I thanked the manager for sharing his perspectives and bade him a good day. It’s odd that he had such strong feelings of revulsion for Mrs Richman’s milk. I suppose he holds old-fashioned views about a man’s right to enjoy his wife’s jahoobies without being sabotaged by unwanted lactation.

Interestingly enough, a book has recently been published which claims that men are attracted women’s breasts because of subconscious memories of being suckled in their infancy. The authors argue that baby boys get such a high from the hormones in their mother’s milk that they spend the rest of their lives trying to recreate it. It’s a cute theory, but logic compels me to dismiss it as hogwash. Babies are clueless little critters who just want to be fed and protected. They don’t know the difference between a tit and a teddy bear.

The true explanation of why men find breasts attractive was given by Desmond Morris, the primatologist of Naked Ape fame. It’s because of the uncanny resemblance that a lady’s chest cleavage bears to a pert pair of buttocks. And why are buttocks sexy, I hear you ask? The answer is simple. Because they are buttocks.

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