When I pick Milkbaby up from creche, I breastfeed him before we go. I don't bother to find the quiet breastfeeding chair in the babies' sleep room and instead perch on the seat by the lockers, in the main thoroughfare to the bathrooms. This means that all of the children in the over twos area can see us as we sit there.
Most of them ignore us, but I've had a few interesting conversations with the more curious among them:
Little girl: Hahahaha [maniacal laughter and pointing], he's eating you!
Me: Yes I guess so, sort of. He's having some milk.
Little boy: [staring from about 5 feet away] What's that baby doing?
Me: He's having some milk.
Little boy: [coming a little closer] Why is it coming out of your tummy?
Me: Erm, well it's not my tummy, it's my breast.
Little boy: [getting even closer for a good look] How does the milk get made?
Me: [I'm starting to sweat now. I start thinking about the pictures of milk ducts we saw in breastfeeding classes and realise I actually don't know how the milk gets made.] Um, ah well your body just is able to make milk for your baby. I guess it's a secret recipe that only your body knows. [Little boy looks unconvinced, and after staring for a while longer, trails off.]
They're a tough crowd, these under fives.