'Mummy can't go swimming today because she's got a sore..'
Mr T tries to intervene 'That's enough Heather, let's go and get changed.'
With a stamp of her feet for effect 'But I'm trying to tell the lady that Mummy can't go swimming because...'
Nice Lady at the swimming pool 'Here you are Mummy, hope you enjoy watching today.'
Red faced I grab the membership card and march Heather and Matthew towards the changing room.
I have to come clean before you all think I have some horrible infectious disease that could wipe out half the population of Brentwood. Thanks to L sleeping for nine hours, and me still nursing, my breasts were on the tender and really, rather sore stage. An hour in a tight lycra swimming costume would not have been pleasant, nor could I face the cries of 'Mummy's milk is leaking' should the unmentionable happen! I had shared the fact that my breasts were a tad tender with my lovely daughter, in the hope that it would avoid a tantrum when she realised that we weren't all going swimming together, next time I will be more careful!
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