December 16, 2010
I know it’s been a while but life with kids, life with me, life in general is crazy and there doesn’t ever seem to be enough time for it all. Damn….
I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way….Thank you Whitney Houston.
However, if my child is my future, I’m up crap creek without a canoe! I already have to sleep with one eye open. She asked me about my life insurance policy the other day. WTH! She's 10! The older she gets, man……
My lil mama and I are polar opposites. If I like white, she likes black. If I want Mexican, she wants Chinese. If I want to rob a bank, she won’t drive the getaway car. Everything is like pulling teeth with her and I’m not ready for veneers yet!
I can’t get this child to crack open a book to save her life. If I tell her to go study she looks at me like I just told her Hannah Montana was really a dude. It’s like the end of the world if I ask her to do anything academic. I am no Nobel Prize winner or scholar myself but damn! I can’t get her to do anything pertaining to school. She’s been counting down the days until the break and it’s finally here. To top it off, SHE CAN’T WAIT TO BE RID OF ME!
I say that because she usually goes to her grandmother’s house when I have to work. That is where she was living before she came to stay with me and that is her haven. It’s a good thing but it hurts my feelings to know that she hates being her with me. Over the Thanksgiving break she literally cried when she had to come home. I’m a big boy but my feelings were really hurt.
Truth is, I would hate living with me too. I know I’m hard but I’m hard because I want her to be better. I want her to be a better student. I want her to be a cleaner individual. I want her to be more tactful. I want her to be more self-sufficient so she can leave me the hell alone sometimes! I swear that she has a proximity disorder. If I’m sitting on the couch, she’s sitting on the couch 2 inches from me. If I’m in the kitchen, she’s peering over my shoulder in the kitchen. She has separation anxiety or something. If I’m more than 2 feet away, she goes into panic mode! (I’m joking but she is always in the mix like Bruhman from the 5th floor)
I just want her to be better and my idea of better is a little overbearing. I know she’s sick of me and I’m trying to tone it down but it’s hard.
Side note….funny story. Lil mama and I were in the mall a few weeks back and I ran into an old class mate. I hadn’t seen this cat in over 10 years so we chopped it up for at least 15 minutes. After we laughed and caught up we exchanged numbers and bid one another farewell. As my daughter and I were walking away she turns to me and says “Daddy, I don’t know why you took that man’s phone number, you know you aren’t going to call him.” I looked at her like, Damn…..she was right, I NEVER call anyone when I say I am so I wasted 15 minutes of my life. Damn shame how well my kid knows me. Too bad I not more like Cliff Huxtable.
November 11, 2010
Just thought I'd do a little something different this time. I did have to get in lil mama's ass the other day for continuously trying to get over on me but I just didn't feel like typing it up. When I say get in that ass, I had to break out the belt and pull a James Evans on her. And yes, she pulled a Penny. No Daddy, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I'm sorry! As soon as that belt hit that ass, no more words. We had James Brown, Al Green, and Etta James in this camp hollering! I felt bad afterwards but she had it coming. I've been a parent for over 10 years and that is only the 2nd spanking (whoopin for my readers who know the deal) I've ever given her.
Do y'all believe in whoopin ass or is it bad parenting?
November 8, 2010
October 28, 2010
Spit (as an intransitive verb) – to eject saliva as an expression of aversion or contempt. (Merriam-Webster Online)
So, on my way home from work I get a phone call from my daughter as I do every day to let me know that she made it in the house safely. I ask the usual questions like, do you have homework, how was school, what do you want to eat, and so on and so forth. Before I can hang up the phone she goes on to tell me that she had “something to tell me”. Usually, that means she’s:
A) Gotten a bad grade
B) Broke something in the house
C) Didn’t do something she was supposed to or…
D) Trying to come up with the biggest lie on earth to cover up for something that she’s done in hopes that I don’t find out or investigate.
Well, she goes on to tell me that a little girl on the bus spit on her. Not just on her, in her damn mouth! WTH! I damn near wreck after she tells me but it’s okay, she’s on her cell phone. I figure she’s calling me from the principal’s office, the back of a squad car, a juvenile detention center or something because I assume she beat the hell out of that little girl. Hell no, she’s calling me from home! She got spit on and did nothing about it. Can you believe that?
I am not one to condone violence as I am not a violent person but….if someone spits on you, BEAT THE HELL OUT OF THEM! I told my daughter that she should’ve ripped that girl’s arm off and beat her to death with it.
I had to educate her that spitting on someone is the lowest of lows. To spit on someone is one of the lowest forms of disrespect. I would rather someone walk up to me and slap me opposed to spit on me. Spit, I just can’t wrap my head around it.
…..and to top it off, my daughter and the little girl are friends again. WTH? Man, I should’ve been bringing her cigarettes, putting money on her books, writing letters to her or something. Spitting on my lil’ mama should’ve provoked an act of violence that is only matched by a higher authority than me placing restraint on her. We should’ve made the news with me pulling an Antoine Dotson!
Hide your kids, hide your wives, and hide your husbands from little girls that spit. You can’t hide fool; my daughter has your scent and your DNA in her mouth! I digress…..