“Something the matter?” she asks with concern.
“I — I need to pee,” you say, your voice laced with embarrassment.
Big girls don’t end up like you, you tell yourself. They know to go to the loo before they get like this.
“Oh,” she says, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we’re below the restaurant now. It would take ages to get up the hill with skis. We’d be better off going down and then taking the lift up.”
You squirm uncomfortably and send another worried glance at mum.
“Can you wait that long?”
You’re not sure, but you can’t really say no , can you?
“I — guess,” you reply uncertainly.
Mum hums in concern before looking around. There’s nothing, but she’s trying.
“I guess we’ve got to move fast then,” mum comments, looking down the narrow slope. “Not too fast though; hitting a tree will be way worse. Okay?”