It was in Wetherspoons and we’d just finished a bacon muffin breakfast  (egg, bacon, and cheese on an “English” muffin for £3.49 and worth about half that).

She came in with her mother and sprog, wearing a figure-hugging top and leggings (her, that is, and not the sprog) which pronounced every one of her cracks and huge pokies.

I hadn’t paid her too much attention as you can tell but then she pointed out to her mother that she was leaking – a damp patch on her tit end told the rest of us.

“This is going to be good” I thought.

After a couple of minutes enduring the baby scrating for its breakfast she must have decided she couldn’t get away with it any longer and asked us at the next table “Do you mind if I feed little Caleb?”

“Not at all” I said.  “I’ve been looking forward to it”.

I’m fully with the sisterhood on this, I have to say –

Breast feeding in a public place at any time of day;

So I was most surprised the lady made a big to-do

When I pulled up a comfy chair to get a better view.