Is it just me . . . ?

While trying on multiple pairs of low cut, flab cutting, over priced, skinny fit, depressingly thin, badly made, non-comfy jeans (it went soooooooo well), I was yet again investing in a little people watching. To be more accurate, people listening.

I know I am judgemental at the best of times, but I realised today just how judgemental I could be. Although, not entirely unjustified. The first was in New Look, who have surprised me actually with their range of tops at the moment, not jeans though - we went through this earlier, I will try not to repeat myself! I was layering tops and failing miserably to coordinate anything when I overheard voices in the next cubicle. Three generations of the same family were shopping together which I thought was lovely, something very traditional and surprising in a world so twisted round. There was a young girl spending her birthday money, her mum and grandma. I couldn't see them, obviously - I hadn't created a little peep hole to watch them by, but I did sit and listen for a while! I need more of a life . . . .

Anyway, the girl sounded about 11 - 12, quite young. She was trying on various things including jeans. Apart from wanting to tell her never to buy jeans from New Look, I was ready to scream at her elders at what they thought was appropriate for a young girl. The discussion went through white leggings, to white jeans, to mini skirts and then I heard the mother say . . . ."You look far better in those white hot pants you own!" At this point I wish I had a peep hole to see just how old this girl was. It was entirely feasable that she just sounded young, that she was a misguided teenager who thought hot pants were cool (for anyone who may be confused I would like to clarify that at no point, unless you are Kylie, are hot pants cool. They aren't now, and never will be!) I quickly gathered my things as I realised I needed to leave the changing rooms before I actually started telling people how to dress.

As I walked out from behind the curtain I realised to my horror, I was right. This was not a teenager, not even close. She was indeed a little girl. She was no older than 12 and her mother was telling her she looked good in hot pants. Now, I know I was never the coolest of kids, I always had hand-me-downs and Tesco clothes (there is definitly nothing wrong with Tesco clothes, I still love them), but come on - hot pants? On an 11 year old? Really? The mother should not be dressing her little girl like a prostitute. But maybe I'm just old fashioned . . . and quite happy to be if thats the case.

The second thing that distressed me was in Dotty P's. I was rifling through the sale rail (some nice little numbers actually, but nothig fit) when I heard a very aggressive voice, "Get eere or I'll batter you! Gerr eer now!" I looked up expecting to see a naughty boy running around the shop. I was not surprised to see the owner of the voice as a very large, extremely scary looking woman. Red puffer jacket, hair scrapped back with what I assumed was gel, could be natural . . . who knows (said I was judgemental), pushing a push chair. There was a baby in the push chair but I could not see the naughty boy. "Get by me NOW or I'll kick your 'ed in!" she continued in her dulcet tones. When I edged my head around the trousers I could see to who she was referring. Tottering behind her was a tiny toddler, no more than 2 or 3. The little girl, from what I could see, was guilty of nothing more than not being able to keep up with mother's yeti like strides. The poor thing was seemingly oblivious to the venom at which her mother was screaming at her.

I spun back around quickly, hiding the fact that I was obviously fuming. How DARE she speak to a child like that. I don't care how naughty they may or may not be - that was bang out of order. I wanted to tell her what a horrible person she was and that she didn't deserve to have one kid, let alone 2. However, I quite like my face, I quite like being able to chew food and breathe without aid. I think had I approached the neanderthal I would have ended up in intensive care.

The world is a very sad place, and things like that put my life in perspective. I had a wonderful upbringing all things considered. I was loved and knew it. I was well cared for and knew it. I never had to doubt the care my family gave me (for the most part) and I now don't have to question the care and love of my friends. That poor little girl is going to grow up knowing nothing but hate and aggression. Steve is right. Humans should have a test before they are allowed to breed, it would stop children growing up a psychological mess and hating the world thus precipitating a vicious, downwards spiral.

So, it may be a day (ish) late, but show people how much you love them. Let those you care about know how much you care about them, that you would not let harm come to them, and that you would definitly tell them how appauling they look in white hot pants.

Love you,

Nx