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Before traveling to North Carolina this past weekend, I went to the Transportation Security Administration’s Web site and printed out the official flying-with-breast-milk rules. I grabbed my handy-dandy yellow highlighter and circled the important part—the part that says I can fly with however much breast milk I feel like sans baby. I folded it up nicely, and slid it inside my cooler of mama milk.

Lo and behold, I’m ready to go through security when the good people at the Wilmington airport asked where my baby was.

“At home,” I say.
“You can’t travel with breast milk with out your baby,” they say.
“Not true!,” I declared as I handed them my printout.

I silently steamed as a small group of security people looked the paper over. They return.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t know. You’re free to go.”

While I was very pleased with myself, I couldn’t help but be pissed. What about all those moms who didn’t have the printout? Did they dump their milk? The milk they spent so much time extracting with their crappy travel pumps, locked in a back bedroom, with a very old and very mystified cat sitting next to them. If I had to pump-and-dump, man, I’d be in a holding cell right about now.
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