The other day I took the chil­dren to the river for some play around and to catch up with friends. On the way back we planned to visit a favorite café of ours and eat the yummo veg­gie balls they make for lunch.

It was hot, the place doesnt have air con­di­tion­ing, only a few fans on the ceil­ing. We huff and puff into the place and I go to make our order. Then plop myself down and hope the lack of move­ment will cause some cool­ing of the systems.

- Mom, can I take off my top? — Miss Fab asked mat­ter of factly.

My ini­tial urge was to say no. We are at a pub­lic place and we wear clothes here. Its the respectable thing to do.

Its a stu­pid instinct, this molded by soci­ety one that puts other’s needs ahead of your feel­ings and com­fort for things that are not impor­tant. So, I was going to make my child stew in a shirt, just because I didnt want to make the other peo­ple in the place uncom­fort­able in some way? Or because I didnt want to be judged as an irre­spon­si­ble mother for not teach­ing my chil­dren proper man­ners? Or because I didnt want to be uncom­fort­able under the sup­posed glances of some strangers? Was really some unknown person’s opin­ion of me or my chil­dren or their com­fort more impor­tant than that of one of the  peo­ple I love most on this Earth?

How often do we negate our children’s needs for those of peo­ple we dont know and will never see again in our lives? Or for our own self­ish unrea­son­able feelings?

- Sure! You can also pour some water on it and put it on your neck.

Then Little B fol­lowed and I ate my lunch with two top­less girls with wet t-shirts on their neck  and the world didnt end and the peo­ple around me didnt faint.

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