i am . . . waiting, annoyed, trying not to get in the way, bored, reading the advertisements, wishing i could sit down, on that chair . . . that’s not for children . . . wishing she would hurry up, wondering what they are talking about, what do the adults talk about, women talk gossip, are you really interested? . . . i’m embarrassed and ashamed, why aren’t you talking to me, you seem like a nice mum and i am a cute and shy little boy in stupid shoes . . . i thought women loved me but not so much lately . . . mother demands all the attention . . . can’t figure out our relationship, if our mums know each other, are lindsey and i friends? i don’t think so but i wish you were . . . why do all the girls wear the same dress? your mum’s like a bigger you, she is a younger mum, short just like you, little red nose . . . .
lost in the supermarket