It almost went down.......

What’s up world?  How is everyone doing?  Well, I’m back with another installment and of course I’m about to go in.  Ready?

I have to share this with y’all.  Last week I was being a nosey father as I am learning that it is necessary to do so.  What do I come across…..a letter between her and her friend.  Oh damn.  As I read the letter, a big smile crept across my face as I knew it was about to go down.  I was going to whoop some a** like an Olympic champion.  Man, I was going to skin that poor child.  I couldn’t wait!  So, I call her in the room to go over the letter and to analyze the handwriting to see who was writing what.  We’re in there like First 48.  Godsfavoriteshoes was my assistant detective and were about to crack the case.  Well she swore all of the nasty stuff allegedly was written by her friend. I am no handwriting analyst and forensics was closed so I had to take her at her word.  Well, the case made it back to school and come to find out, lil mama was telling the truth.  It was her friend that was going to kiss Freddie and rub on him to make him like her back.  (I know, right!) I did find out that lil mama likes Alex and she knows what LMFAO means.  I’m still pissed because she went to “watch” this little girl kiss and feel on Freddie but I did go from Defcon 4 back to somewhere around 2.  It was about to go DOWN!  She has no idea how much Big Brother (me) is on that a** now.  Man…..

Well, another day, week, month goes by and this girl is up to more dumb stuff.  I just don’t get how her brain works.  I know that she’s only 11 but damn!  You just have to do dumb stuff all the time?  Really? Maybe it’s not even dumb at this point, at least not all of it.  Some of the stuff that is going on is becoming disrespectful and blatant.  I’m really not feeling that.  Case in point: Godsfavoriteshoes tells her to throw the apple core away downstairs when she’s finished eating the apple.  What does she do?  She wraps the apple up in a couple paper towels and tries to stuff it at the bottom of the waste basket in the restroom.  Soooooo…..you’re just going to do what you want to do?  That’s how we’re rolling now?  Hmmmmm……hell naw!  “Get yo a** up and get that crap out of the trash and take it downstairs before I snatch a plug out of yo damn head!”  She really tried to play us y’all. 

It gets better.  How many of you feed your furniture on the regular?  Seriously, do you ever feel like your love seat is looking a little hungry and needs some sustenance?  Do you ever just want to offer the coffee table a biscuit or something?  Lil mama does.  Searching the house for a phone that I don’t use pisses me off enough but what do I see when I look in the cushions of the couch?  Hmmmmm, let me see….

1.       An empty bag of Lays Potato Chips

2.       A half-eaten bag of Lays Potato Chips in a Zip-Lock bag

3.       A half-eaten Strawberry Yogurt Nutri-grain Bar

4.       An empty Jell-O Cup

5.       Three (3) popsicle sticks and wrappers

6.       Seven (7) Reece’s Peanut Butter wrappers

7.       Some Cheerio’s

8.       A half-eaten hot dog and a rubber (I’m just joshing about the last 2!)

So, I guess my couch was hungry or high because it had the munchies like a mutha f***a!  I lost it on that little girl.  Two things happened here, either she was too damn lazy to get up and walk TEN steps into the kitchen to throw stuff away or she’s hiding crap that she sneaks.  I swear that I don’t deprive or starve her y’all, we just have to watch what we eat.  Lil mama isn’t all that little and I’m just doing my best to keep her weight down. Either way, it is nasty as hell!  So, you just sit yo nasty a** up and watch TV and stuff food into the couch?  Where the do that at?  Apparently at MY DAMN HOUSE! I was at a loss for words because I couldn’t believe how nasty that was.  Fool, we don’t live at Pee Wee’s Playhouse! Just plain damn nasty……

I’m not Pee Wee, Cowboy Curtis, Jambi and damn sure not Cliff Huxtable!

I don’t want to ramble and make this post too long so it’ll be to be continued……

Sugar and Spice and Everything....Nasty?

What’s going on blog world?  Glad to be back in the fold and giving you a glimpse into my parenting life.  Man, it’s a trip as I am sure some of you can agree with.

Okay y’all, I need some help with this one.  This is a subject that is a trip and there isn’t really an easy answer, fix, or whatever it is you want to call it.  The last time I checked, I had a daughter, a girl, full of sugar and spice and everything nice.  That’s what it is supposed to be right?

Well, why is it that my daughter is just plain nasty as hell!  I don’t mean kind of nasty or a little nasty but nasty as hell.  I have to look at her from time to time and shake my damn head.  Yep, it’s that bad! 

Please keep in mind that we have had countless conversations about hygiene and cleanliness.  We've talked about taking care of little girl's "areas".  We've discussed the fact that because she's a little bigger than other girls she'll have to work a little harder and do more.  Does she listen, hell naw!  Just nasty!  I'm trying y'all, I promise.

Hmmmm…..let’s see.  This little girl came home from her Granny’s last Sunday AND DIDN’T BRUSH HER DAMN TEETH UNTIL THURSDAY!  Where they do that at?  She came home and I peeped on Monday that there wasn’t a toothbrush in the holder but I didn’t say anything.  Looked Tuesday, saw the same thing. Wednesday and then Thursday and I just couldn’t do it anymore.  Sooooooo, you just want to walk around for a week with yuck mouth?  Who does that? A week!  To add more fuel to the fire, she wasn’t going to say anything about it!  Who knows how long she would’ve walked around with doo doo tooth!  Man, get of my damn phone with that!

Grossed out yet, wait!  What woman,  girl, lady, etc. takes a 4 minute and 13 second bath/shower?  Unless you  are just trying to tighten it up and take a ho-bath, there is no damn reason for a young woman to take a 4 minute and 13 second shower. (yes, I timed it) Ninja please!

True story y’all.  When my daughter was 2 or 3 years old I used to call her Tuna.  Don’t really know why or how it came about but she was my little Tuna. (I even have a regrettable tattoo of Charlie the Tuna on my chest, don’t judge me) Women rang down from the mountain tops not to call her Tuna.  I was told that you can’t call a girl tuna for obvious reasons. I agreed.  Well…….now the damn name fits!  I hate doing it but as a father I have to whenever it happens.  It’s only right.  I have to tell my daughter “you’re a** is fresh and you need to go and take care of that!”  (I don’t do it in front of people or embarrass her and no, it isn’t an everyday thing.  However….) When I stink, I smell myself and  I want to go and fix the problem.  This fool acts oblivious to it and looks at me stupid like something is wrong with me and my nose.  Really?  That’s what 4 minute baths do for you……

Feet, a**, breath, under arms, head, every damn thing stinks man!  Oh, did I forget to mention, her room looks like a 3^rd world country and smells like sweaty alligator back!  I have to go in there once a week and throw stuff away, move stuff around, tear stuff up, etc. and somehow it always ends up junky again.  WTH?  I know hell well it’s not me.  I have a small case of OCD and clutter, dirt, mess makes my skin crawl.  I’m notorious for just throwing stuff away.  Put it up or lose it!  I have to shut her door and act like that part of the house doesn’t exist.  Man, she gets on my damn nerves!

If I had a little boy y’all, I might not even trip.  I remember being that little dude.  I remember not wanting to bathe or clean up.  In a roundabout way, it’s expected from boys.  We’re just nasty.  Hell, some of us are nasty a** grown men. 

Look, at 11 years old I shouldn’t have to remind you to put on powder, deodorant, or brush your teeth. I shouldn’t have to tell you to take a bath AFTER YOU’VE BEEN OUTSIDE PLAYING SOFTBALL FOR THE PAST HOUR!  I shouldn’t have to remind you to take your Claritin.  Hell, I don’t want to hear you snorting, sneezing, clearing your throat and sniffing for the 30 minutes we drive to school.  Sound like a grizzly bear!  Ride in the damn trunk!

I’m done.  I don’t know, maybe hygiene will evolve over time.  Maybe she’ll just grow up and be nasty as hell.  Maybe she'll see the light and become Molly damn Maid.  Maybe I’ll make her musty a** sleep outside, who knows!

In this instance, I don’t want to be like Cliff Huxtable, Theo’s room was atrocious but lil mama’s ain’t too far off.  Just sayin…..

Really? I'm Just Sayin.....

What’s up blog world?  I know it’s been a while but so much has been going on that I haven’t had time to holla at y’all.  Well, I guess I need to make time.  Trust me, it isn’t from a lack of material.  There’s PLENTY of that to be had!

Today’s message is a PSA (Public Service Announcement)…..you can’t have the baby without the baby mama!  It isn’t much of an announcement but more of a declaration.  I’ve preached and preached about this broad over and over but it’s a subject that’ll never get old.  My baby mama ain’t *ish!  Am I a saint, of course not but I take care of mine.  Always have, always will.

Today I’m brewing over the fact that I can’t get any help from this woman.  NONE!  For the record, I don’t need it but it’s the damn principle.  All I ask of this woman is $50 per month and I can’t get that.  Not per week or every other week, PER MONTH!  Yep, you read it right, $50 damn dollars.  Lil mama will by pads, smell goods, and hair products and she’ll be broke but it’s something.  All I’m complaining about is effort, show some good faith. Oh, here’s the kicker y’all, she’s pregnant again!  Really? (Hell naw it ain’t mine!)

I could go on and on about this broad but it won’t change.  To date, she owes me $673.45.  Right now, all I want is $50!  When I was paying child support and her money wasn’t on time, she would be calling me at my job asking me to call payroll to see what was up.  I can’t get $50 damn dollars.  Before you ask and if you’re wondering, HELL YEAH I would have her a** thrown in jail for being behind on child support!  It ain’t fair and it ain’t right.  She gets her hair braided every 2 to 3 weeks.  She eats good.  She has furnished her NEW apartment.  She bought her son an X Box for his birthday but I can’t get $50. Ninja please!  I can’t say it enough, $50.00!!!!!!!!!

I had to buy all of her school supplies, school shoes, uniforms, etc and this heffa can’t give me $50 to help with that.  She could’ve bought school supplies and I would’ve been happy.  That wasn’t even $50.00! Nothing from her at all.  Her son, yeah, he ain’t mine but I went out of my way to buy him something for his birthday, I always do.  I don’t do the kids like that. Again, he ain’t even mine but you won’t do for yours?  Really?  Notice, I didn’t say CAN’T, I said WON’T!

Lil mama doesn’t go without and I know that’s why this broad doesn’t do anything; she knows that I will.  It’s just a little frustrating y’all, that’s all.  I didn’t, wouldn’t, and couldn’t do her like that when the shoe was on the other foot, that’s my daughter.  This broad though, I don’t get it, I don’t get it at all.

$50.00 fool!  $50.00 damn dollars! Per month!  You hit me up for $600 per month when I was paying but I can’t get $50? I can’t even get an IOU or a post dated check, nothing!  You just flat out say “Ninja, I ain’t paying you *ish”!  Man……

If they ever, ever, ever, ever, ever ask me about pressing charges or whatever it is they do for child support evaders, she better get used to wearing orange. (I’m just sayin)

And before you say, “what about your daughter, you can’t do that to her”, ninja please!  We’ll bring Hand Sanitizer and Handy Wipes to wipe the plexi-glass and nasty phones in the visitation booths!

Cliff Huxtable married his baby mama so this scenario doesn’t even apply…….

I Ain't Ready.....

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t have left you……

Hello Blog world, how are you? Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written but I’ve had a lot going on.
New job, moved, got married, etc. Haven’t really had much time to write but I’m climbing back on the saddle.

Seeing as though I’m not a single father anymore, it may require me to switch up my blog a little. Don’t get it twisted, I’m still the same ol’ father that you’ve been reading about. The difference now is, I have some reinforcements. Godsfavoriteshoes will put one up her A** if she gets out of line and I’m not around. I may have to get my bail money ready when she goes upside lil’ mama’s head. I’m cool with  that though.

There will be some of you that will read this and say “she ain’t her mama, how dare she do that?” Well, I’ll tell you how. I was raised in a house with a step father and let’s just say, he didn’t play that. The same rules apply in my house. It’s about respect. If lil’ mama can’t fall in line and respect the rules of the house, she can get molly whopped by four fists instead of two!  Things will be even more interesting seeing as the two of them will be spending more and more time together. See, lil’ mama is starting middle school next year and the wife teaches at the high school next door. So, they will ride to and from school with one another. Isn’t that a riot! I’m sure there will be plenty of silent rides. I wish I could be a damn fly on the wall for all of that tension! HA!

Lil mama ain’t gonna be able to get away with *ish! Every time she thinks it’s all good or she wants
to do something fly, wifey is going to be at the school in her behind. Not only that, she taught at the
middle school last year so she has plenty of eyes and ears in the building. I can’t wait to get a f**ked up report about her doing something dumb. It’s going down! Y’all know how I do it. (SMILE) Little does she know, step-mom enrolled her in a pre-AP science course. So, she is going to actually have to study. Isn’t that grand!

Outside of my sinister thoughts regarding her “Big Brother is Watching” moments that she will encounter, I am trippin’ about her going to 6th grade. I’m nervous, scared, and a little excited at the same time. Look, I know how I was when I got to middle school and boy have times changed. BOYS! Man……that’s all I can say. Lil mama isn’t short on curves, I’ll say that. BOYS! Damnit! BOYS! Hopefully I won’t have to slap the *ish out of her and someone’s son. I have to stop. I ain’t ready, I’m really not. I talk all this *ish but I’m not ready for that yet. If she knows like I know, she ain’t either! Damn…..

Well, there’s nothing to do but get ready, all three of us. It’ll be interesting. I will let you guys know who stabs who first. I’m a hard sleeper but my wife isn’t. Maybe I need to learn to sleep with one eye open. I won’t get her in her sleep though, I’ll prison yard shank her the minute I get a bad report. Just
sayin…..BOYS!














Cliff was a little too cool with Bud when Rudy got to that age….Hell Naw, I ain’t Cliff Huxtable!

Too Hot to Handle.....

                                                                 

Summer is upon us and that means that the heat is here!  Those of you who read this blog that live in Houston know what the word “heat” means.  Man, it’s hot as hell outside!  It’s get in the car and burn yourself on the seats hot.  It’s melt your CD’s in the car hot.  It’s “if your  A/C doesn’t work and you still drive placed during the day, you are a damn fool” hot!  Summer heat in Houston makes you not want to do anything.  What’s messed up about that is, it only gets worse!  This is just mid June.  When August comes around, people literally die.  Every year, 10 or so elderly people die in their homes because of the heat.  I better get prayed up because if hell is worse than this, I need to cancel that reservation now!

With all that said, I sent lil mama to softball camp this week.  I signed her up a couple months back with the idea that it will help get her skills up and make her a better player.  What happens after the first day?  “Daddy, it’s too hot to do this every day”.  Really?  You are really going to call me with this nonsense.  Does she know that I will snatch a plug out of her a** for that?  Too hot?  Fool, you only have to go to this camp for 4 days!  You can’t tough it out for four days?  What kind of kid are you?  Then I stepped outside…..I felt her pain.  I started sweating as soon as I touched the door.  I hadn’t even walked out yet. 

So, then I had to call lil mama back and tell her if she wanted to quit, I would understand.  I was fighting with that decision because you don’t just up and quit *ish.  Especially stuff I paid my damn money for! Just like the elderly, every year several kids die or pass out from heat exhaustion so I get it.  It is hot as hell outside.  But……I paid $250 for you to go to this damn camp for 4 days!  It’s from 9-4, that’s only 7 damn hours! You mean to tell me that you can’t make it happen for four days.  There’s no way in hell I would’ve been able to quit.  My mama would’ve looked at me stupid and told me the only way that I could quit is if I died out there!  I don’t believe in quitting so of course I’m in a bind.

I’m teetering on the side of child abuse by making her go out there in extreme conditions but at the same time, I don’t want my lil mama to hurt herself in any way.  Do you know what I could be doing with that damn $250?!

So, an hour or so later she calls back and tells me that she is going to go the next day.  Come to find out, she wore jogging pants out there with some thick tube socks and a T-Shirt.  Fool, you are going spontaneously combust in all that!  WTH!  So, she tells me that she is going to wear shorts and a tank top the next day.  Well, she calls me the next day to tell me that she had fun and really liked it.  She did however, tell them at one point that she needed to sit down because it was too damn hot.  Good job, Shaggydoo.  Good job. 

That really made me proud.  I was proud of the fact that she didn’t give up and she was going to tough it out.  She’s learning some new things and she’s enjoying herself.  I had a proud dad moment.  Because if she would’ve decided to quit I might’ve had a moment and slapped my $250 up out her a** on GP!  Going around wasting money, you’s a damn fool! 

I don’t remember it ever being hot in Huxtable land so I don’t really know what Cliff would do.  He always had on those damn sweaters……

Summer This and Summer That.....

I assume that a good portion of readers of this blog are parents so, just like myself, the end of the school year has been thrust upon you. What does that mean you might ask?  You know what it means!  Your kid spending more time with you and getting on your damn nerves!  School is a stress reliever for parents.  It offers sanctuary from the whining, begging, crying, complaining, and everything else that comes with having kids.  For 6 or so hours a day, they are someone else’s problem.  Now, they’re in your damn face all day wondering what we’re going to do next.

This post is from a different perspective.  You see, for the first 30 days of the summer I won’t have my lil’ mama with me.  Court documents say that she has to spend the first 30 days (consecutive days) with her mother.  It’s supposed to be 45 but I wasn’t having that.  That fool might have tried to take my damn baby to the motherland.  That’s where her silly a** was at for 8 months.  Hell naw!  Not working. Not doing volunteer work.  Not doing a damn thing.  Just there! (I have nothing against Africa or its inhabitants, I have a problem with that damn fool taking my child to another country) Anyway, lil’ mama left for her Granny’s house (where her mother is) the day school let out and she couldn’t wait!  I don’t even know if she told me bye.

There’s a big issue with the whole thing though.  She’s going to be over there for the next month seeing, hearing, and doing stuff that isn’t allowed in my house and after 30 days she is coming back and I am going to have to deal with it. I am going to have to deprogram her a** all over again.  It was hard enough doing it the first time and now I’ll have to do it again.  So much tomfoolery (I love that word) goes on over there.  Lil mama’s mama is an idiot sometimes and she lets her get away with murder.  It isn’t cool.  Manners, gone.  Respect, gone. Diet and exercise, gone.  It all pisses me off because we’ve put in so much work to get things where they need to be and it’s all going to come unraveled. I am no saint and it ain’t all good at my crib but there is structure and accountability.  I’m too easy sometimes and I do let lil’ mama get away with stuff but I don’t baby her, I’m not her friend, and she is responsible for herself and her actions. She doesn’t really like me and I’m more than alright with that.

I’m trying not to be pissed about it because there isn’t much I can do.  I can only sit back and wait to see the mess that comes back home. 

On a brighter note, lil’ mama was commended on the Science portion of the State test.  I was really proud of her but it makes me wonder what was tested.  This is the same child that circled; D) a table, as the answer to the question “Which one of these solids can change forms and be poured into a glass?” Technically, you can do a lot to a table to pour it into a glass but she wasn’t thinking that way so don’t try it y’all!  Especially when the other choices were ice cube, butter, and wax. (something like that) Before you say, “this boy’s child is dumb as hell”, she missed like 10 out of 20 and after I checked, all her answers were dumb a** answers.  Well, she was rushing to go outside and just chose whatever.  PISSED ME OFF!  After I punched her in the back of the damn head and made her redo her homework, she got them correct. Anyway, she got commended on the test so I’m assuming that she took her time.  Or, she cheated or guessed her a** off! Either way, I was a proud papa!

Well, again, there isn’t much I can do about her leaving and to be honest, I miss her a little.  Not a lot, she gets on my damn nerves!  However, I do miss her and I’ll be happy when she comes home.  She won’t, at all, but I will. 

Remember how nice and sweet the Huxtable grandparents were? They didn’t have a deranged mama living it up off the government and child support sleeping on their couch.  Well, at least they didn’t show those episodes on TV. Well, my lil mama’s grandparents and *ish like the Huxtables and I’m not either……

I Don't Want No Scrub!

Moral victory? Who made that up?  Who decided it was a good thing to shake the other teams hand after they beat the hell out of you?  That isn’t cool.

I was speaking with my sister-in-law as her kids played in the same league that Shaggyd00 played in.  Her youngest girl (she has 2) played on a really good team and regularly won.  She goes on to tell me that they let another team win because that team hadn’t won all year.  What?  Really?  She said it was good for the other girls to get a win; it would help to build their self esteem.  What?  Really?  Where they do that at?  As she told me the story, I looked at her like she had a dookie stain on the side of her face because we don’t do that where I come from. 

I wanted to tell her, F*%# those kids, F*%# the coaches, and F*%# the parents in the stands saying “good job girls!” (But, she’s a Christian woman so I couldn’t come at her like that.)  Really, your kid didn’t do anything!  How in the hell was it a good job.  Oh, I get it…..it was a coincidence that our best players just happened to trip running around the bases.  Oh, it’s just by chance that our girls didn’t hit the ball today.  Oh, it’s just by chance that our girls let the ball roll into the outfield.  Man…..it ain’t by chance that your sister, daughter, niece, is sorry as hell!   That is the issue.

Is it our team’s fault that y’all suck?  Practice harder. Get better players.  Don’t make us take a loss because your girls aren’t good enough to win.  Tell them to try another sport!  Maybe the coach sucked and they didn’t work on the things that they need to but don’t make our girls take a loss for y’alls sorry behinds. 

So, if I get in trouble at home and my dad is going to punish me it’s cool to say, “Oh, thanks for whoopin my ass dad.  I’ll see you next time.  I’ll bring my A game and wear thicker pants.” Hell naw!

Y’all know me; I’m not in denial at all.  My kid sucks. I attribute it to it being her first time ever playing but still, she ain’t no damn good.  It is what it is.  I promise you, I won’t be asking the other team’s pitcher to throw her some easy ones.  Hell no!  If she can’t hit the damn ball, her bad! 

“Oh, excuse me coach…uh…my daughter is pitiful at the game of softball and it would make her feel so great if she knew y’all aren’t trying and are letting them win.  Coach, her self esteem will be through the roof to know that you let her hit one.  Coach, she won’t earn it but you making her know she sucks even more than she does will be awesome. Thanks, coach. I really appreciate you making her think that she’s a good player when you and I both know she’s terrible.”  Hell naw!

I understand certain circumstances, I really do.  I saw a story on ESPN where the other team let a blind kid hit some free throws in a game.  I saw a story where a father ran his son, who was confined to a wheelchair, into the end zone after the other team said it was alright.  I get those types of stories.  Those are children who will never get the opportunity to compete in sports in a normal setting.  Those are touching stories and I would do it in a heartbeat if I were a coach.  But, just because you suck doesn’t mean that I am going to do it.  There’s nothing wrong with your team other than the fact that they need to practice and work harder.  Hell No!  Not on my watch!

BTW….I beat the hell out of her in Monopoly last night.  I tried to warn her.  I told her that I’m not letting her buy property, get by without paying, skip spaces, etc.  I ain’t giving her a damn thing.  She is going to work to be a better player at whatever she does and I’m not going to make it easy.  She’ll appreciate and understand it more later. What kind of lesson is that teaching her if I do?  You can suck at everything in life but eventually, someone is going to feel sorry for you and help you out.  Yeah, okay…..

 On a side note, she did ask why they have to shake hands after a loss.  I was proud at that moment because I’ve always hated that myself.  If I lose, I want to walk down the line and tell every person in the other jersey “F%#@ You and your damn parents!”  So, I don’t even think she would want a damn handout.  Gotta love it!
                                   

Anyway, y’all remember the episode where Rudy was going beast mode on the football field? Sweet Feet!  Well my kid is ‘Left Feet’ so by those standards, I ain’t Cliff Huxtable…….

Closed for Repairs.....

A couple weeks ago, I read a comment to one of my posts that had me a little beside myself.  My initial reaction was to comment back and say something ugly but I had to sit down and think about the context of the comments.  After reading it again, and again, and again, I can see where the reader was coming from.  While the comments still sting a little, there is truth and validity to them.  So, I figure I need to clear up a few things are set the record straight…..

I have gone in on my baby mama several times on this blog and in fairness, she hasn’t had the chance to defend herself of tell her side of the story.  Maybe the person who left the comment is a baby mama and is sticking up for her sister.  Maybe she is a woman that doesn’t like me slandering another woman.  Hell, maybe she was just having a bad day.  Whatever the reason, I took offense to it and I’m not sure if I should’ve.  The comments read as below:

“You are the one who had a kid with her! Oh and intelligence genes come from the mama. You are in for one hell of a ride.”

All of it is true, I think.  Not sure about the intelligence thing but I don’t want to take the time to research.  Yep, I had a kid with her so that probably knocks my intelligence meter down a notch. There were several factors into me having a kid with her:

1.       I was jobless, broke, and trifling as hell so I was living off of her.

2.       I was 20 years old and not very bright.

3.       The snacks were great at the time. (I won’t go into details but 20 yrs old + nothing but time = whipped) I’m just saying…..

So, needless to say, I set myself up for failure with that one.  On top of all of that, I saw the signs on the wall long before she was pregnant.  She didn’t get crazy 11 years later.  She’s been crazy for 32 damn years.  I’ve known the baby mama since I was 11 and not much has changed.  The elevator stopped on the 4^th floor then and it stops on the 4^th floor now. I won’t go into details about it all but when you ask someone else to count your change after you buy something because you want to know if it’s right, well, out of order elevator!  I knew all of this going in but I just didn’t walk away. 

My mama told me, my dad told me, everyone told me but I was “in love”. Man, please!  I was stuck on stupid and sliding on dumb! She had her son in high school and I didn’t hit the brakes then.  Hell, at that age I just figured that meant she was giving it up. I thought I was lucky.  Don’t get it wrong, there are plenty of women who have children in high school and turn out successful.  I say what I said to say, she didn’t take care of her son then, when I got with her, or now.  She didn’t defy the odds.  Nothing said, “Sean, don’t have a kid with this fool, she doesn’t even take care of the one she has”.  Nope, I heard something say “Face down, a** up, that’s the way we like to …….”

Maybe I deserve all of this crap I am getting from her.  I put her through hell when we were together.  I wasn’t a model person, baby daddy, or man.  Truth be told, I sucked.  But, I figured it out and I’m still working to be the best father I can be. I called the repair guy to get my elevator moving again.  Now, we’re in the penthouse and steady building.  As for her, you’re better off taking the damn stairs.

With all that said, yes, I am in for a hell of a ride.  Hell, the ride I’m on doesn’t have any seatbelts and I’m not sure if the brakes work.  Luckily, I have a good mechanic and she’s riding shotgun (godsfavoriteshoes.blogspot.com).  I’m Still trying to decide if I am going to give her the permanent job or not.  I’ve offered a couple of times but she wants a better benefits package.  Damn…..

All in all, I’m stuck with her ass (My baby mama, not my mechanic. I am going to keep my mechanic though.)!  I’m tired of getting off on the 4^th floor and walking to the 10^th while dealing with her but it ain’t up to me to fix it.  At this point, I think the parts are obsolete and that elevator can’t be fixed.  If the intelligence gene comes from the mother, I pray that lil mama got a skipped generation or something.  I can’t have her asking me if Alaska is a foreign country.

Well, I’m not perfect, haven’t always been a good father, and I’m definitely not an elevator repair man but, taking the stairs gets old.  Oh yeah, I ain’t Cliff Huxtable either…..

Daddy's Not So Little Girl.....

I know that my little girl isn’t going to stay a little girl forever (she’s far from that now) but damn, I’m not ready for this, man.  Lil mama is built like….man she ain’t built like no 10 year old that I went to school with!  There’s something in the milk! 

Let me start by saying that I’m just not dealing with all of this too well.  Case in point, I walk into her room the other day to wake her up for school and I pull back the cover and her Chi Chi is staring me in the face.  MAN, I DON’T WANT TO SEE HER BREASTISIES!!!!!  Daddies aren’t supposed to see those types of things.  What’s crazy is, I wake her up mad like she did something!  I looking at her telling her to put that damn *ish up and she’s looking at me like “what did I do”.  Hell, she’s still half asleep.  Man, I just wasn’t ready for that.  I need her to sleep with a bra on or something, man……

Hmmm, another instance…….We were at softball practice and I was watching the girls run laps and it hit me like a “I’m Rick James B**ch* slap that my lil mama needs some new sports bras.  I’m watching all these little petite little girls run around and I see my lil mama with breasts and cakes shaking everywhere!  I wanted to snatch her up, run to the car wrap her in some plastic wrap like a spring roll!  Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t a 10 year old wearing a double D or anything like that but her little nubs aren’t the usual nubs and I’m not feeling it.  I want to get her an extra small spots bra but that might mess up some circulation or something.  As she would say, “Daddy, that’s child abuse”.

I’m always telling her, “that’s too damn tight”, “that's too damn small”, “girl, I’ll bust you in the back of the head if you don’t take that off”…you know, stuff like that.  Part of it is that she is a kid and doesn’t know any better.  She wants to be a kid and doesn’t totally understand that she can’t wear the things the other kids wear.  The other issue is her silly a** mama giving her the clothes that she can’t wear anymore.  She thinks it’s alright to give lil mama her old Dereon jeans and halter tops.  What the Hell!

Anyway, now I have to stay on her about wearing her robe and putting on a damn bra! I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT *ISH!

It’s weird sometimes seeing all of this because at the core of her, she’s still just a little girl.  My little girl!  I look at her sometimes like, damn, this is some bull, but we’ll sit up and watch Sponge Bob together.  I’m tripping about the Chi Chi’s and cake action but she still likes to act like a baby and get whatever she can out of me.  We have to go down the woman isle at the store to get ‘stuff’ but we’ll bake cookies and watch “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs”.  Man, it’s crazy. 

We still have a whole lot of work to do.  I can’t teach her how to be a woman and I try not to fuss too much about what not to do as a woman.  We’re still working on the whole “time of the month” thing and I’m trying not to stab her in the top of the head.  I guess it’s a lot for a 10 year old to deal with but that doesn’t mean I want to!  I will say that I have had help with it all, even the whole Chi Chi thing.  I don’t know the first thing about bras (except taking them off but I’ve never been good at that either….sorry, I had a moment) Click this link to read about our bra fitting experience at JC Penny.  I’ll say this, I had no idea breasts grew by the hour.  Only at JC Penny…….

Maybe I need to calm down.  Maybe I just need to accept the fact that my little girl is growing up.  Maybe I need to lock her in her room, chain her to the bed, and bring her out when all of the other little girls catch up.  Or, maybe I need to eat a pudding pop.  Isn’t that what Cliff would do?

BTW…..I’ve been told that boys are cute.  WHAT THE HELL????  Coming soon…..