This week I had the great fortune of dining with two of my favorite people. I have mentioned my dear friend Steve in other posts, but what is important to know is that the friendship was based originally on a quartet of Steve, Jason, Stephanie, and myself. The first of our adventures in friendship was a long night of drinking in search of girls for Steve and Jason. Fast forward six years and Stephanie moved on to the more affordable pastures of Nyschaunechtady, NY, I have two kids, Jason is married, and Steve is gay. So, needless to say, our current outings have changed a little.
Steve, Jason and I found many of our outings to be much like an episode of Seinfeld. Our most favorite example being a trip to the movies. After waiting patiently in line for my coffee, (because who doesn't drink coffee at the movies) when I finally arrived to the cashier to place my order, he look at me with his apathetic high schooler eyes and told me, "I can't sell you coffee at this register. You have to go to the other one." The three of us looked to our immediate left, where there was no cashier, as the one before me was the only one working, only to see a Green Mountain Coffee sign hanging over the register right next to where we were standing. "You mean I have to go to this register right next to you?" I asked with a furrowed brow. Teenage concession stand worker responded, "Ummm, yeah." The three of us (Steve, Jason and myself) each cocked our heads in confusion and then took a stride to the left to meet the same cashier at the "coffee" register.
It is rare that the three of us get together these days. In fact, I can't really remember the last time that this happened, but plans were in place and there were preparations on my end that needed to be made. The most important of which is, when I am going to be out in public for an extended period of time, I like to pack a bottle for the bro bro. Public nursing isn't really my thing and while it is obvious that I have boobs, I think any extra attention brought to them, might make certain parties uncomfortable. Especially if that attention is brought on by a little baby sucking on them. SO, if it isn't enough that I have a child suckle at them, I hooked myself up to a machine to suck a little more, all so the boys would be more at ease.
There we are on the Panera patio. The day is gorgeous, we are under a shady tree, Natalie is behaving herself, Steve is behaving himself, and the bro starts to get fussy. I figure that it is time to take out this bottle, liquid gold if you will. I use a drop in bottle, which is essentially a plastic bag that drops into the bottle. By pushing on the bottom of the bag, the air streams out of the tiny whole in the bottle nipple and it fills with milk. Well, as I began to do this, I had a bag blow out. My pants were covered in breast milk, and Natalie was showered with breast milk. I had to laugh so I wouldn't cry at this disaster. All of that hard work seeping into the concrete patio. In that moment, I so clearly understood why people might cry over spilled milk.
Steve and Jason had no idea what was lost in those quick moments, so what else was there to do but laugh at me? And in that moment, when I wanted to burst into tears in a very girly way, I had to smile at myself and think, of course this happened while I was with them, this is the stuff our friendship has always been made of.