It's been quite awhile now since Babykins last nursed. She doesn't seem to miss it. Every once in awhile, though, she randomly looks at me and says, "I nurse!" I laugh, remind her that she's a big girl and doesn't nurse anymore, and she goes back to whatever she had been doing.
A couple weeks ago, though, Babykins was having an especially hard time falling asleep. After about a half hour, she looked at me and asked, "I nurse?"
Me: No. Remember, we don't nurse anymore.
Babykins: No...I nurse!
Me: I know you want to nurse, but we can't anymore.
Babykins: I nurse, please. (Ah, she knows me so well.)
Me: That was very polite, but we still can't nurse.
Babykins: (Takes a long pause during which she obviously is thinking very hard.) Mary Poppins nurses Michael! (For those of you not in the know, Michael in the little boy in Mary Poppins. He's about 6. Mary Poppins does not nurse him.)
Me: (Trying not to laugh.) She does not, but that was a good try. We're not nursing. Good night.
Babykins: Good night.
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