Thread inspired by another thread - what would your mum do if you were kidnapped by Parisian sex traffickers?

[Preoleai]

I couldn’t sleep last night, and ended up reading the thread in classics inspired by the Liam Neeson film, Taken. Laughed so much that any chance of sleep went completely by the board! And then I started wondering what my mum would do.

I think she’d probably first need someone to tell her what sex traffickers were, and that, yes, there really are such people in the world. She’d need a long detailed explanation as to why they chose me, where they found me, how many of them there were, how old they were, where they lived, what their parents did, what cars they drove, what their children were called - you get the picture.

Then she’d ring her friends to explain what had happened and to ask what she should do. Having heard their advice, she’d decide she couldn’t act on any of it because she’s not clever enough (she is) or not brave enough (she is) or doesn’t speak french well enough (she doesn’t).

Then she’d go round to Katie next door to ask her to feed the cat, and end up staying for an hour and a cup of tea. Because offending Katie is of course worse than losing her daughter to sex traffickers (who she still wouldn’t really believe existed).

Then she’d need a bit of time to hoover the stairs (a daily activity that CANNOT be forgone. I’m not sure why).

Anyway, finally, at some point - perhaps about six weeks after learning of my plight - she’d arrive in Paris. By which time I’d have been spirited far far away. She’d have a conversation with the concierge of her hotel who would tell her that of course sex traffickers didn’t exist, she would sigh with relief and say that she knew such awful people didn’t exist. She would return home, happy in the knowledge that all was well, and very pleased with the Eiffel Tower tea towels she’d bought for her friends and Katie next door.

I’m not sure at what point it would occur to her that I was nowhere to be seen and that she hadn’t heard from me in a while.

I love my mum but if I have to rely on her to rescue me from the traffickers, I’m toast!

What would your mums do? :)

First of all, she’d telepathically tell me off for ‘becoming a statistic’. Every time I did something reckless when I was a teenager/young adult she would scream at me that if I ‘CARRIED ON LIKE THIS YOU’LL BECOME ANOTHER STATISTIC’

Once her anger at me had subsided a bit she would definitely find them and she would kill them. She’s a feisty woman not many dare to cross and she’s quite the bear mum when it comes to me and my brother.

My mum would find me at any cost. She is an amazing woman who makes things happen. She raised 5 of us on her own, she did 3 part time jobs as well as studying for a degree to give us a better life. She is 75 and still works full time & is very well regarded in her profession as the go to steady hand. If my life was in my mum's hands I know she would come through

Remind me it's all my own fault and if I had listened to her this wouldn't have happened
Sort the entire thing out with lots of glaring and shouting before bollocking me, to a point where I think actually maybe it was my own fault and end up in tears
Then make it all about her, so I get a million calls off my dad about how much I've upset my mother and can I not just think about my actions and how she can't clear up my messes
When retelling the story obviously it will be ALL my fault, exaggerated dramatically and she will be the hero of the story while I'm the silly little girl
Heads over to stately home threads

Light a candle.

(Irish).

I wouldn't tell her. She'd be ashamed of me.

We'll all be old one day

My mum started her family young, she's only 55.

It wouldn't be an issue. No kidnapper would have dared to look sideways at the daughter of my darling, tiny lioness of a mother.

After informing everyone in phoning or WhatsApping distance my parents would turn up in their camper van (one driving, one navigating with a paper map), reason sternly with the traffickers and squeeze me in the back for the journey home, amongst the crates of wine purchased in Calais. We would probably make a day of it with some shopping at the flea markets, dad looking for second hand books and mum any bargains on kitchenware, perhaps a gallery, then drive home at a reasonable speed in time for a sound bollocking, Sunday dinner with world- class Yorkshires and update to the aforementioned masses. She would probably also text the sex traffickers to let them know we were home safely.

not sure why I have decided I would be kidnapped on a Sunday!

name change fail

My mum started her family young, she's only 55

Indeed, well I did too, so perhaps that's why it touched a nerve!

Best case scenario she’d haunt them (she’s dead).

I wish to withdraw my earlier account because it is incorrect. I would in fact, be rescued by my MIL. She doesn't like driving so she'd get FIL (who would have to pop to the Co-Op to buy the Daily Mail first) and they'd set off.

It would take them almost a week to reach me because FIL drive only marginally faster than he walks.

With very few words and no anger, MIL would get me released. She'd have brought me some nice PJs from Primark in a size too small because she hasn't noticed I'm fatter, some tablet fudge and would have made a lasagne for us which we wouldn't be able to eat.

She would listen to my long, emotional account, let me bawl my eyes out, hand me pocket tissues from Primark and give my hand a squeeze, saying "you'll be alright pet". Then we both have a laugh at what just happened and get hopelessly lost on the journey home.

She'd apologise to them for me being a bother, and end up making friends with all of them and either going to theirs or having them round for the next ten Christmases in a row.

She’d phone everyone she’s ever met, even in passing, to remind them that I used to live there and how my French is so great I’d be able to talk my way out of it. She’d then watch Tipping Point while my highly practical DH would single handedly rescue me by being methodical. In the re-telling of the story, she would be the heroine of the story because she told her French mates about my kidnapping.

My mum at first would refuse to admit it had happened to me. She knows sex traffickers exist but I wouldnt let myself get in that situation of course

She'd then probably give me some time to sort it out myself.

Shed spend a lot of time worrying, shed probably send me a lot of texts telling me she loved me. Shed also end a lot of texts to her friends, who would be very supportive

My DP would come along and say 'theres no need to worry everything will sort itself out'

My dad would probably have a heart attack with the stress. He would swear a lot, and get very angry. He might come and rescue me if he manaaged to avoid any medical emergencies

When I finally rescue myself my mum would be waiting with open arms, a homemade cake and my favourite dinner.

We'd then all pretend it didnt happen.

My grandma who initially refused to believe sex traffickers exist would then be very excited and tell all her sisters about how her grandaughter got kidnapped by sex traffickers. None of their granddaughters or kidnapped by sex traffickers, very exciting.

My parents are lovely people, but they are worriers. Good in crisis they are not.

Phone the Gendarmes and tell them she was on her way and that if I wasn't saved by the time she got to Paris, she'd find me herself and deal with them after she'd dealt with the kidnappers.

An Italian police officer on secondment to Paris would go deathly pale and tell the Gendarmes to sort it quick.

If my mum did come to rescue me, shed politely but firmly ask the sex traffickers if she could have her daughter back

Theyd probaby oblige. Because for some reason people always do as she asks. She migut have a little chat with the sex traffickers

Shed then tell me all I needed to do was ask, what lovely people those sex traffickers were! Very polite really. Honestly what a fuss your dad made!

If asking didnt work thats it really, Im screwed.

No word of a lie, she'd probably write a letter to her MP, or my MP,

She'd be most concerned for DH, and probably concerned for the traffickers themselves, because it's all about the menz in mums world

Mine would phone my brothers.

Mine would inform my half brother that I'd come up with some wicked scheme to extract her recent inheritance from her, cry a bit that she's being picked on by the evil monster spawn, ask him again if he could buy her a little flat next door to his new house, remind him that because his partner didn't want to eat anything prepared in her hovel and is a healthy weight that 'THAT WOMAN IS OBVIOUSLY ANOREXIC' and he should put her in a mental ward. And then go on about telling an urban myth/story she'd read in the Daily Mirror as though it happened to her.

If I miraculously escaped, she'd inform my half brother that I was clearly mental and needed to be locked up to protect the public from my wickedness and to protect her from my wrath, could he please buy her a flat next door to his nice new house.

And if it were proven to be true, she'd inform my half brother that I did attract these men and I must have felt sorry for them and agreed to take part in an elaborate charade to try to extract her recent inheritance from her. He'd probably need to buy her a nice little flat next door to his nice new house just in case one of them came looking for me again. And that way she can monitor his partner's eating and tell him when she's gone off on one and needs to be locked in a mental ward.

Now, if DP were to be kidnapped by Parisian Sex Traffickers, his mother would say 'Oh dear.' and sit down with a cup of tea and a biscuit looking sad. If she thought to mention it to his father, which she might get around to doing a couple of years later, he'd make a couple of phone calls to some slightly shady investigators he had worked with previously when a lawyer and the odds are that DP would be dropped off by fishing boat somewhere along the Devon/Cornwall coast with a bag of gold and a heartfelt apology for the inconvenience.

My mother wouldn’t give a damn. Probably say ‘She’s made her bed she can lie on it’. She’s the least empathetic, supportive person I can think of. Oh, and would be worried what the neighbours would think/say, appearances are extremely important to her.

Mum would research the kidnappers genealogy with the intention of finding them some interesting ancestors and hopefully rescue me whilst they were distracted by that.

Dad would tweet some very indignant haikus.

Tell me it was entirely my fault and that I'd brought shame on my family for being such a slut. I'd need to rescue myself.

My mil has a special set of skills and would probably turn up with a tank and enough explosives to take out half of Paris. Can I have her instead please?

My mum would locate her sister's friend's cousin's husband (you know, the one who lived next to Sylvie's niece back in 1972, who owned the green 2CV? Ever such a lovely wife he had. Died of cancer last year I believe, poor thing, and now her son is getting divorced.) He's really high up somewhere or other and would definitely have a mate who was a trafficker - or at least knew the trafficker's mum's cleaning lady back in the 1980s.

The chances of getting me home safe are slim, but not as negligible as you might imagine. Once I was home, she'd bore everyone with the story until Kingdom come. Only she'd always only give them a random part of it on the assumption they magically already knew what she was on about. She wouldn't ask me anything about what had happened.