Yeah yeah. We’ve all used that excuse before. You, when you were probably just a few years older than we are now and burping at the table was not looked on by your parents favourably. “In some countries, burping after a meal is a compliment”, you’d argue, knowing full well it wasn’t going to work. “Well unfortunately for you”, you would be told in no uncertain terms, “you do not live in those countries”.
Yet it would seem that a similar rule is afforded to us babies. We eat, we burp. In fact, the two are mutually dependent. For if we don’t let out a Barney-style belch after approximately 60ml of milk (or one breast), we will not be allowed to continue. “Come on darling”, you coo to us, “just do a little burp and I’ll give you some more.”
And it’s not just warm words of encouragement that are used to coaxing it out of us, is it. Oh no. You deem it both necessary and appropriate to hit us on our backs whilst throwing us over your shoulder and bouncing us up and down to do so. I mean, have you ever gone on a rollercoaster after eating an ice cream? And you wonder why we then throw up all over you. Rocket science.
We don’t mean to be rude, after all, we do appreciate the effort – either by subletting out your body to us or spending both time and money washing, filling and sterilising botttles – but let’s be honest here, who ever got really excited about milk? You wouldn’t find anyone from India or China burping after a cup of milk, that’s for sure.
Please, just take the hint. We’re not burping because we don’t want to burp. If and when we do, we will not be shy in letting one out, trust us.
We, the bored of milk, implore you: Sneak us some of your dinner, instead of pretending that we’ll be getting some chicken and roast potatoes in some shape or form later (and we don’t just mean the breast), and we bet you’ll get a very different result.
Go on. We dare you.