The Beast and I always get smiles from people when we walk into town. We look friendly and happy and why not smile at us—right? But the other day we were walking back from town chattering away and there was a man walking toward us and he was smiling…not at me, not at us, but at The Boobs.
The boobs that just appeared out of nowhere just before the summer. OMG The Beast has no idea of the power--she just seems to view them as another accessory to fill out her clothes. She, and her friends, seem to have none of the shyness that I felt when my body changed—she just sees it as new fashion possibility.
I stare at this man—he is old. Older than I am. A lot older. He is still looking. The Beast, again, does not have a clue. I click my fingers to dislodge his eyes from my daughter’s twelve year chest. He glances up. I catch his eye. “ TWELVE” I say.
He averts his eyes and immediately turns red.
What can a mother do? There will be days, and soon, when I will not be there to be the bitch to the leering pig.
3 comments:
Gross!
I know! And I am sure it just gets worse.
Nasty, it gives me creepy flashbacks to my own pre-adolescence. Not to mention my own mommy anxiety about my little girl in 10 years.
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