Eeeew! Creepy Much?

So I'm on my last break and I'm in the ladies restroom, waiting for a stall. The very first stall was unusable; it seems some idiot didn't know how to properly shit in a toilet without crapping on the seat. (Me, I think if you're that damned stupid, you should be permanently locked up in Massengill's Home for Retarded Douchebags, but I digress.)

All the other stalls are taken, and there is now a line forming in the restroom. The second and third stall are occupied by a mother and her child, the third by an unknown female. All three of these people are taking their sweet time. One of the women waiting in line starts tapping her foot. Me, I couldn't help it: I sucked in enough air to let loose a very loud and irritated sigh, hoping someone would get the hint. It seemed to work; the girl in the third stall finally flushed. But she didn't come out immediately. Instead, she dropped to the floor, calling to her mother, and tried to climb under her stall and into the one occupied by her parent! When she realized she was too big to climb under, she opened the door and zipped out. I stepped forward to claim her stall (I was first in line, after all) and got a good look at this kid; she had to be at least eight years old. As I locked the door to the third stall, the girl knocked on her mother's stall door.

Her mother let her in. This girl was eight years old, and by no means a helpless toddler, but Mommy let her in.

Even worse, the kid began to talk. (Like she couldn't have done that outside her mother's stall!) She talked about the cool new school supplies she was going to get and how she hoped her teacher would be nice.....

I was trying not to gag. When I was eight, I wasn't allowed in the bathroom with my mother. If I had to tell her something, I yelled it through the closed door. There comes a time, people, when you have got to cut the damn umbilical cord. This is one of them.

--Weasel, who wonders how Mommy would teach that girl sex-ed... and shudders at the thought.