there are a lot of boobs in Washington

I was locked out of my house the other night, after I had let Nathan play in the yard and Mike had left for the gym. I was wearing a pajama top and jeans because, hey, I'm not a total slob. I was bra-less and barefoot, (okay, yes I am) examining my options. I could have sat there so Nathan could stuff more rocks into his mouth but we were losing light and I didn't have access to any camping gear. Actually, I don't have any camping gear and the closest I've ever been to sleeping outdoors was the time I fell asleep in my car, but whatever--FOCUS!

And why would I lock the door behind me? Paranoia? That I am going to break into my own house? Who do I think I am?!? I need to keep me away from myself!

But my question is this: if you use your toddler as a boob shield as you sheepishly knock on the neighbor's door to use the phone, what does your heavy toddler become? A Tot Tube? A Boobler? Hot Toddy? Tit for Tot?