Of bras and boots

So there we were. Standing in front of the troll who wouldn't let us pass.

"What is your relationship to this child?"
"I'm her good mummy."
"You're her mother." It's important to note that the troll looked understandably skeptical here, considering that Anya and I don't look alike, and don't share surnames.
"Oops, sorry. I'm her godmother, but Anya has a Scottish accent and pronounces it 'good mummy'".
"So if Anya jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge?"
"Err no. But that's mostly because she's very flexible and probably wouldn't break as many bones as I would."
(Note to self: don't refer to broken bones when you're suspected of being a child abuser/human trafficker.)
The conversation continued in this way for another twenty minutes with Anya thrice denying that she knew me. (Another note to self: sprogs can be contrary when they're tired and need to make a poo).

The troll finally let us pass after taking photos, fingerprints, urine samples and making me explain the history of my relationship with Charmaine. (Sorry friend, but I had to tell her about the time you and Tracey stole that painting in Questionmark in Melville and carried it out in your handbag. I was important to cast myself in a good light and make you look bad, so the troll would approve of my "good mummy" status).

Just when I thought we were home free... There it loomed... Heathrow security.... After elbowing our way past a few people and me offering sexual favors to others, we got to the front. I removed my Doc Marten boots, unloaded everything into trays and dashed through, hoping that our plane hadn't taken off yet. Of course, I set off every alarm they had. Anya thought it was very amusing.

I was then frisked and touched in places that I didn't know I had. Repeatedly. Their electronic wand thingy probed and prodded, and my suggestion that they give it a vibrating feature was not appreciated. After the wand repeatedly squawked around the boob area, I tentatively suggested that my underwire bra could be to blame. They made me take it off. When Anya and I were finally waved through, there was no time to put my boots and bra back on.

To be continued...