At some point, Baby Ike moved past that phase where he would attempt to latch on to anyone who happened to be holding him right when the milk cravings hit. Oh hi, General Chestal Region Of Random Human! I am hungry. Your shirt angers me so much.
Now he seems pretty clued in to the fact that I, alone, am Milk Lady, and that my General Chestal Region is special and magic and all that.
And also this:
WHY DOES MILK NOT FLOW OUT OF YOUR FACE ARGH NOM NOM GRRR
This is Ike's special Milk Lady greeting. If I'm holding him, chances are he will be attempting to suck on my cheek, lips or nose while squeezing whatever else he can get his fists around AS HARD AS HE CAN. I believe it is technically done out of love and affection, but if you're feeling a bit left out, you can easily recreate the sensation at home by attacking your own face with a vaccuum cleaner attachment.
(That also has teeth.)
(I think Dyson makes one.)
(Thanks to Tracey for taking the above picture on Friday, but not for laughing hysterically while my face-sucking amoeba baby yanked out handfuls of my hair and I struggled to prevent a festive holiday hickey.)