Enmeshed / Outmeshed?

Shrike and I often joke that we "are the same person," or at least that there's only one brain cell that must be shared between the two of us.

Peeper's probably just now starting to get the idea that she and I are separate people, and I've often caught myself thinking in ways that tell me I feel like we are one and the same.

So, this one caught me by surprise:

A couple of nights ago, Shrike and Peeper were in bed and I'd gotten back up to have a snack. I'd finished and was messing around on the interwebs when I heard Peeper crying.

I rushed back into the bedroom, unhooking my bra as I went, and did not actually say, only because I figured she was more likely to get really awake if I spoke, but thought, and almost said, "It's okay honey, here we are."

Here we are.

As in, me and my boobs.