Who's looking after whom? September 13 2015 4 Comments
This summer, while in New Brunswick, we went to a restaurant with some of my family, including my mother.
Before the meal was delivered Mum got up to go to the washroom, as far from where we were seated as was possible in this large restaurant. So I accompanied my Mum; I didn’t want her to get lost.
I finished first so just waited by the door for her. We laughed about something silly and then I said “Are you ready to go?” We started out.
She reached for my arm and tried to turn me and said “Are YOU ready to go?” and laughed. I thought she was trying to get me to go out first. I said “You go ahead, I’ve got this.”
“Are you sure?” she said and reached behind me again, this time tugging on my skirt.
The back of my skirt was tucked into my panties. There I was, ready to walk across the entire width of this busy, crowded restaurant with my “you know what” hanging out.
Like a couple of nine-year-olds we dissolved in fits of giggles. I couldn’t help but wonder who was looking after whom?
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