My Breasts Have Names

Betcha didn't know my breasts have names.

I didn't name them. I could barely come up with a name for my second child, let alone for my breasts.

Ben named them. It took me a long time to realize it, but these are his actual names for my breasts:

"Other side!" That is my left breast. It's the one he prefers to start with. "Other side! Sit down! Other side!" I've tried to explain to him that it's not the other side if it is the one he is starting with; it's just "that side."

He disagrees strongly. In fact, "that side" is the name of my right breast, according to him.

"Which side do you want, Ben?"

"That side!"

You might think this is just a fluke, that he's just pointing at it and saying "That side!" But no.

"Ben, why don't you start on the right this time?"

"No! Other side! OTHER SIDE!" The left one is his favorite, by far.

Another test:

"Ben, which one do you want?"

"Other side!" pointing to and moving toward the left one.

Another test:

"Ben, which breast do you want?"

"Other side!" practically leaping for the left one.

When he finishes on "other side," he then clambers around, telling me, "That side! THAT SIDE!" while going for the right breast.

These are not the most exciting names one could have for one's breasts; nor do they entirely make sense, really.

But there you have it: "That side" and "Other side." Not usually in that order of preference, for him.

And yes, only Ben is allowed to call them that.