There is a new superhero in town. She is the Patron Potentate of newborns, and her name is La Teta. Against the tyrannies of lung based life, she is in constant, aggressive vigilance. Her mission is to comfort, to ease and to nourish; her target audience is the rash flayed diaper denizen with testy tummy and chronic spit-up.
Like many a superhero, the Appendage is shy and reclusive in her public life. Cloaked and hidden, she seems an ordinary attachment, a serene and passive auxiliary. But if ever an infant scream should pierce the air, there she is, ready, pointed, glistening. Her Superlife is a never ending sequence of miraculous appearances, flashings forth in glorious lactescent splendor at first signs of distress. When black spirits sweep the cradle, and foul winds ruffle the newborn soul, there you will find her, resplendent, rotund, leaking and dripping white liquid comfort direct to the vein of the child, delivering relief in ways that no father, be he ever so soft-stepping, deep-purring, and smooth-stroking, could ever, possibly, under any circumstances, hope to match.
Do I sound envious?
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2 comments:
You do sound a bit envious. I'm sure your feelings are complex; feelings usually are. Your musings call to mind a quote I recently came across by a new father (whose name I unfortunately don't recall at the moment). On observing his wife breast-feeding their newborn, he mused: "What used to be the entertainment center is now the juice bar."
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