…you found out that someone had fed you pancakes made with human breast milk?
Here’s the story:
Yesterday, my husband, Jeff, was making pancakes and ran out of milk. My brother, Billdo, wasn’t in the room. Jeff said, “do you think Bill would be really grossed out if we used some breast milk in the pancakes?” I said, “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Ha ha.” Well, Jeff just used water to finish the pancake batter, and they came out really good, so the point was moot.
But what you do/think/say if you found out that someone had fed you human breast milk without your knowledge?
And whos milk was this? Yours? Now if I was your brothers there, I would freak out. You know rip my shirt off and run outside and proceed to runs in circles as I vomit. I find drinking cows milk a little weird. But consuming my sisters breast milk is like some weird canabalism incest thing that is really weird. Thanks a lot. Now I won’t be able to sleep tonight!
Wearia
Id: Auggh! Ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-EWWWW! Gross! Grosser than gross! Nasty! No!
Ego: I can’t believe you’d do that to me!
Superego: If your mom had lactated properly you’d’ve spent a year or so eating that. No biggie. You’re just ished out because you’d know the source of the milk. Which is silly. Shut up and eat your pancakes.
After about eight seconds of synapse overload (visible effects: air gulping and eyes bugging out) (with luck, this would all be wordless), superego would probably win.
Well, as the brother in question, I figure I ought to chime in.
I suppose that if it were in cooked food like pancakes, it wouldn’t be too bad (particularly if I didn’t know about it). I’d be seriously grossed out if it were in something uncooked.
scr4–For the most part, diseases aren’t transmitted in breast milk. After all, we feed it to little tiny babies with immature immune systems. (There are exceptions, of course.)
[hijack] We were walking into the ballpark the other day. There was a giant sign that said “No Outside Food or Drink.” My brother said, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave your breasts outside.”
It would oog me out if I knew about it. The same way the idea of eating bugs oogs me out. It may be irrational but that’s the truth of the matter. Perhaps it has something to do with socialization. Maybe if I was raised to beleive this was the norm it wouldn’t bother me. Now, however, add me to the **“Bleurgghhhh”**contingent.
Aw, the baboo isn’t hungry. I’m a regular milk machine. A Jersey cow, if you will.
I rather enjoy using the breast pump. I call it Mr. Pumpy. I feel a great sense of accomplishment when I fill the little bottles. My freezer is already stuffed with little baggies of extra milk.
(It’s an Ameda Purely Yours, in case anyone’s interested.)
One thing I am curious about–why is it grosser if the milk comes from your sister? I would think that I would rather drink the milk of a relative or close friend than some stranger off the street.
I’m not sure about the “not telling them” part. Personally, I like to give people as much of a heads up as I can if there’s something unusual or uncommon in a meal I prepared. Some people don’t eat veal, some people don’t eat lard. While breast milk isn’t unusual in the scope of, let’s say, the world of mammals, human breast milk is fairly unusual in the diet of adult humans.
