That's why I'm her favouritest daughter

So there was this one time when they were having some sort of musical show at Fort Langley, though offhand I can't remember who was playing. We weren't there to see it. We had just randomly walked in.

I had returned from wandering around the crowd a little to stand just behind my mom. Just then, mom reached out and put her arm around the girl standing beside her, and began to rub her back slowly, as if that girl was me.

I guess I could have said something, but I just stood and watched. It was an experiment. I wanted to know how long it would take her to notice that I wasn't wearing a backless shirt.

And then the moment came - two simultaneous looks of sudden horror, awkwardness and revulsion as mom snatched her hand away and the girl stepped back.

Long story short, I eventually got whacked for it, which might have had something to do with my rather saccharine sounding comment that she must be glad that I'm her daughter.

Whatever. I had to get her back for threatening me with the banana, didn't I?

She had it coming.