We were at the mom’s group in the junction.
You were a plump red head with curly hair and pale skin. You were nursing your toddler with confidence and ease.
I was an equally plump brunette with frizzy hair, running mascara, and lipstick on my teeth. I had baby vomit on my pilled black cotton t-shirt and was trying desperately to make my baby interact with the other infants in a way that would prove he was charming and delightful.
I wanted to tell you that I thought you had the most beautiful nipples I had ever seen. I felt strange doing so.
Your nipples were the loveliest shade of pink; they reminded me of English Roses. Your areolas were smooth and delicate, and despite the pale hue of your complexion, your pink nips managed to appear well defined and perfectly round.
My admiration of your nipples and fear of complimenting them made me think how unfortunate it is that I could not find my voice to let you know that your breasts were picturesque. When I got home I thought how badly I wanted a nipple compliment. My husband’s reassurance was not the same.
Instead I complimented your nail polish colour.
Perhaps you noticed my nipples as well? They were a warm oak colour, large and leaking.
If you would like to reach a comfort level where it is acceptable to compliment one another’s breasts without it being labeled as creepy or inappropriate please reach out.
Warm Oak looking for an English Rose.
Erica Moore is an Interior Designer with a degree in Fine Arts and Literature. She is a wife, and mother to 2 dogs and 1 baby. She is also a very hilarious human being.