Today as I walked through Dunnes with my five-year-old she randomly blurted out that she wanted a bra. A f**king bra. I initially laughed it off, so did EVERYONE close by. It was an argument I was never going to win so I told her to ring her da (I know I’m such a b***h haha). It was the funniest phone call I’ve witnessed in my entire life.
An actual conversation I had with the five-year-old today…
‘Mammy look, isn’t this so cute‘.
‘Ah yes, it’s very pretty’.
‘This would fit me… it’s for little people‘.
‘No darling, that is for really skinny people‘.
‘No, it’s for children, like little people, like me‘.
***LAUGHS SO HYSTERICALLY THAT I PRAY I DON’T PEE MYSELF***
‘Mammy I want one‘.
‘Mammy… mammy… maaahmmy…‘.
‘Mammy but (friends name) has one’.
‘She does in her shit have one, she’s five‘.
‘Well she’s actually six‘.
‘How do you know (friends name) has a bra‘
‘I don’t care what age she is… YOU ARE NOT GETTING A BRA‘.
‘But I need one‘.
‘FINE! I’ll ask my daddy, he’ll get me one‘.
Hands phone over in delight to ring daddy…
Daddy almost chokes. He wants to die. I piss myself. There’s some negotiations…
‘That’s not too long…‘ she says.
‘See daddy says I can have one when I’m 15‘.
‘Mammy when am I 15?’.