I get to the bus stop, having just missed the bus. I’m going to be late for work. Already my face is crumpled up and I’ve only been outside for 4 minutes. 15 minutes later, the bus shows up. I pay the bus driver £1.80. He gives me a 90p fare. I make a huffy noise at him, roll my eyes and plod off. I sit down. I’m stuck behind a lady with dirty hair, beside a man wearing too much fake tan, within eye-shot of a very stylish old woman and in front of a wee boy who’s riding the bus with his mother.
By the time I got off the bus in town, I’d laughed, I’d cried, I’d laughed so hard I cried.
Small Boy: “Mum, are we going to the toy shop? Can I get a robot? Mum, if you met an alien would you shake his hand? Or would you run away?”
Mum: “We can maybe go to the toy shop later.”
Small Boy: “Can I get a Transformer? One that turns into a truck? One of the expensive ones?”
Mum: “I hope it’s not expensive. Do you play with the other one you got?”
Small Boy: “Yes”.
Mum: “Are you sure?”
Small Boy: “Yes. I play with it all day, all day, all day, all day”.
Mum: ” Are you sure?”
Small Boy: “Granny moved the toy box closer to the couch. Am I going to after-school care tomorrow?”
Mum: “No. I don’t think so. Why did granny move your toy box?”
Small Boy: “If a bad guy tries to take me away, I’ll just say, ‘No! No, no, no’. Won’t I, mum?”
Mum: “Yes. That’s right. You just say, ‘No. I don’t think so.'”
Small Boy: “And if the bad guy tries to hold my hand…”
Mum: “You bite his hand as hard as you can and then you run away.”
Small Boy: “I’ll bite his hand? As hard as I can? I’ll bite his hand as hard as I can and then I’ll tell a policeman. Should I tell a policeman, Mum? If I see one?”
Mum: “Yes. You run away and you tell a policeman”.
Small Boy: “When I tell the policeman, the bad guy will run away”.
Mum: “The policeman will chase him and catch him and put him in prison”.
Small Boy: “What is prison for?”
Mum: “It’s for bad guys.”
Small Boy: “Are there cages in prison?”
Mum: “Yes”.
Small Boy: “How many cages are in there?”
Mum: “Too many. There are too many bad guys in this world.”
Small Boy: “And too many good guys?”
Mum: “Hm”.
Small Boy: “The man that was shouting. Was he a bad guy? Why do they do those kinds of things?”
Mum: “Because they have problems.”
Small Boy: “Can you tell God anything, Mum?”
Mum: “If you like.”
Small Boy: “Can you say a bad word to God?”
Mum: ” You don’t say a bad word to anyone.”
Small Boy: “Can God see me?”
Mum: “I’m not sure about that.”
Small Boy: “Do you believe in God?”
Mum: “Sometimes”.
Small Boy: “You believe in him sometimes but then sometimes you don’t believe in him?”
Mum: “Hm.”
Small Boy: “God won’t be happy with you , Mum.”
Mum: “Did your Granny tell you that?”
Small Boy: “Mum, what do you do in your uni?”
Mum: “I study.”
Small Boy: “And what do you do in the gym?”
Mum: “I exercise”.
Small Boy: “Are you going to the gym now?”
Mum: “No. I’m not going to the gym now.”
Small Boy: “Why not?”
Mum: “Because of the baby. I’m too tired”.
Small Boy: “Is it because the baby won’t get a good sleep?”
Mum: “Yes.”
Small Boy: “Will the baby be very angry with you? Because you’re moving this way and then moving that way?”
Mum: “Yes.”
Small Boy: “Mum, will the baby fit in your mouth? Who’s going to take me to school tomorrow?”
Mum: “What?”
Small Boy: “When I’m a girl, I’m going to have a baby”.
Mum: “You are a boy. Boys don’t have babies. Only girls have babies.”
Small Boy: “No. Only boys have babies. Mum, I think I can feel my tooth moving”.
Carrie Not the Kind of Girl You'd Marry 
Oh, so glad you mentioned it, I didn’t know this existed! Brilliant! Great wee piece of writing. I have had many conversations JUST LIKE THIS in my 16 years of parenthood…