I called the lactation consultant from my office and mentioned to her that we would like to rent the baby scale she mentioned during her visit to our home. This, she had explained, would be the easiest way to see if J.T. and Swee’Pea were actually being productive during their breast feeding sessions.

So, the consultant told me she had a scale available. I glanced at my watch and saw I had just enough time to run over to pick it up before picking my mother-in-law up at the airport. I got a little lost on the way and lost some valuable time. Finally, I found the office and managed to squeeze into a parking spot in the crowded parking lot. I bypassed the elevator and ran up the adjacent stairs to the third floor. As I arrived at the top of the staircase I saw the office door right in front of me. Being in a hurry, I quickly walked in taking two large strides into the room before I noticed everyone.

And when I said everyone, did I mention they – all dozen or so – were all nursing mothers With their boobs hanging out Looking at me The one person in the room without a built-in feeding system

I froze, tried to look calm and quickly turned toward the desk area and away from the nurse-fest going on five feet from me. I felt like… (what’s the analogy here Certainly not a “kid in a candy store”). I know, I felt like a Red Sox fan in the right field bleachers at Yankee Stadium – he’s got every right to be there but shouldn’t do anything stupid.

So, I spent the next five minutes listening to the lactation consultant talk about the scale and I filled out the paperwork and paid. When it was time to leave I did an about-face and high tailed it out of there. Safe for the moment.

It now dawns on me that I’m going to have to return the scale next month.