You know something: women with toddlers that are kicking up a mega-decibel racket, while they are just trying to stock up the pantry, owe us niqaabis a huge debt. I mean, one of those wailing-kicking-and-screaming soldiers comes marching out of an isle, sees someone’s eyes are the only thing he has access to, and what does he do? Zips it. Completely. Instantly. Not one more peep or squeak out of him! Sometimes a smile will sneak out of them. Sometimes a little wave loool. But one thing is certain: the kid has forgotten all about the sugary cereal bomb that Mommy oh-so-kindly refused to put into the shopping cart.
Do the mothers thank us? No. They gaze with equal amounts of horror and pity. Thank me, woman! Thank me! (Not really, I don’t really need it, but you know…)