One quiet summer day, I was sitting in the living room nursing my baby in my arms, while my little daughter played beside me, filling the house with her innocent laughter. My husband was at work, and when I saw my baby crying from hunger, I couldn't help but nurse him.

Later that evening, when my husband came home, he looked a bit tired, but as usual, his possessive gaze immediately turned toward me. While I was preparing dinner, our little daughter ran toward him excitedly and, with her sweet, innocent voice, blurted out: “Daddy, Mommy nursed my baby brother!”

My husband froze in place, his eyes widening slightly as he tried to suppress a smile creeping onto his lips. He stared at me with a mixture of seriousness and teasing, then said in a low, slightly jealous voice: “Really? Didn’t I tell you that your milk is for me?”

I smiled awkwardly and tried to explain, but before I could say anything, our daughter continued with enthusiasm: “She gave him her milk, Daddy! I saw it!”

My husband sat on the couch, looking at me with a small grin, then said playfully: “Looks like our little girl has become a spy now.”

I chuckled softly, placed the food on the table, then approached him and said: “You know your little boy needs me more than you right now.”

He stared at me for a moment, then gently took my hand and said with a warm smile: “I know, but I can’t help being jealous.”