My aunt’s milk

When I was five years old, my mother had to go into hospital for a couple of days for some minor surgery. Rather than try to cope with us himself, Dad parked my little sister Rhonda (two years younger) and I with my Aunt Chris, mom’s youngest sister.

Aunt Chris had a lot of experience with children, having been a kindergarten teacher, but she had quit her job about five months previously to have her own child, a little girl named Joanna. Joanna was being breastfed and Aunt Chris was keen to normalise this activity around Rhonda and myself, openly feeding her baby in front of us.

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