That Horrible Child

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Tampon Terror 2 - Mum's Bodyguard


Since walking in on my mum whilst she was tending to her womanly needs, I had been doing my best to be as well behaved as possible, thinking that my mum was hurt and in need of lots of love and comfort. Each morning I got ready for kindy on my own, without mum needing to constantly be on my back to get ready. I attempted to take the rubbish out and cleaned my room, as well as attempting to cook dinner by making vegemite sandwiches and making her cold cups of coffee (as I wasn’t yet old enough to use the stove or the kettle).

Mum made the most of my helpful attitude, since I was too young to understand the concept of menstruation, so it was the easiest way for mum to deal with the situation.

Whilst out shopping one evening, mum was in a rush to get home. Holding my hand, she raced through the shopping mall, laden with grocery bags. I raced to keep up with her, as we rushed through the sliding glass doors of the mall.

As we raced out the door, we took a sharp turn left, headed for the car, parked around the side of the shopping centre. As mum turned onto the footpath, a man who seemed to be in as much of a hurry as we were, was walking in the opposite direction, heading into the shopping complex.

He and my mum barely even saw each other before they collided. The man was about six foot something tall and solid built, he was a brick wall compared to my mum’s tiny frame and barely five-foot height. Mum doubled back and lost her balance, falling to the ground, her shopping bags spilled out onto the pathway.

The man was shocked and reached out his hand to help mum to her feet. I was furious. I stood between him and my mum and started yelling at him, then I lashed out and pounded my tiny fists against his knee caps, while stomping on his steel capped boots.

“That’s my mum, don’t you touch her you big bully. Don’t you hurt my mum.” I was screaming loud enough to stop people walking by. People were looking at my mum sprawled on the ground, then at me yelling, screaming and punching the kneecaps of a huge man, wondering what the hell was going on.

The man laughed.

My mum laughed.

I got angrier and put even more effort into my swings. “Don’t you hurt my mum, she’s bleeding between her legs and you’re not allowed to hurt her.”

The man and my mum both roared with laughter, to the point where the man ended up sitting on the ground beside my mum, clutching his ribs. I took my chance and started attacking his chest.

After a while, they began to calm down and mum managed to reassure me a little. The man helped mum pick up her groceries, while apologising with a wide grin on his face.

We walked away quietly and once in the car, mum told me that bleeding between the legs was personal and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it, especially strange men whom we don’t even know.

I explained that I was doing my best to protect her and protested that she was being unfair and mum dropped the subject. It wasn’t mentioned again until it was time for mum to give the puberty talk to me. Only then was I able to see the funny side and have a laugh with mum about it.

Kylie Logic:

I knew my mum was obviously injured and in pain (blood always signifies this) and therefore was obviously incapable of standing up for herself against bullies. My mum was (and still is) my best friend and I therefore had a moral obligation to protect her against such bullies (even if I was facing a battle I knew I couldn’t win). In all honesty I still believe I did not get the thanks I deserved for being so brave and heroic and putting my life on the line for my poor, injured mum.

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