Impeccable Aim

WARNING: Graphic content

My daughter is very talented.

After a small afternoon snack at the milk bar, Sophia was sitting on my lap looking around and rubbing her eyes. It was nap time. She buried her face in my chest, just like she always does when she is tired. As she was surfacing again, I felt a warm trickle running down the valley between the Twin Teats. Somehow she had managed to launch a bellyful of milk down the 1/4-inch opening of my shirt, without getting any on the actual shirt.

That is impeccable aim.