I doubt there’ll be a parent, and more specifically a mother, who can’t relate to this post. This conversation happened in the fitting rooms of a department store in Gympie this very morning. The woman and her young son of around six entered one of cubicles with a couple of items the mum wanted to try on.
Son: “Aw, Mum, I don’t wanna be in here. Can’t I just stand outside?”
Mother: “You can wait in here with me.”
Son: “Don’t worry. There’s cameras.”
Mother: “I said no.”
Son: “Do I have to watch you undress?”
Mother: “No, you can turn around.”
Son: “Mum, I can still see you! There’s mirrors everywhere. I can’t not see you.”
Mother: “Please, just let me try these on.”
Son: “Wait! You’re not going to take your bra off, are you? I don’t wanna see your boobies.”
Mother: “I’m not showing you my boobies.”
Son: “Good. And you’re not going to take your undies off, are you?”
Son, after a pause: “I don’t think you got the right size. That’s not going to fit you. You know, you’re not very skinny.”
Mother, whispering: “Gee, thanks.”
Son, loudly: “Hey, Mum, you’ve got a rash!”
Mother, whispering even softer: “I’ve just been scratching.”
Son: “You should get that looked at.”
Mother, as a threat: “I am never bringing you shopping again.”
Son, with genuine relief: “Good.”
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