A Word To Your Mother

Me: I’m awesome.

Daughter:  *silence*

Me: Obviously, you didn’t hear me…or you’re not listening.

Daugher:  I heard you

Me:  You should say it

Daugher:  What?

Me:  You should tell me I’m awesome.

Daughter:  Why?

Me: Because if I prematurely die at the hands of a violent psycho killer, I want you to be able to say that to all your friends.

Daughter:  Okay.


Daugher:  Ugh….You’re awesome mom

Me:  Thanks, but I don’t know if I can believe you now

Daughter:  And this is why I never invite my friends over….

I met someone recently that I haven’t seen in around 25years.  Upon first seeing him, I didn’t readily recognize who he was, but once I got closer (my eyes are totally fucked, yo) it dawned on me who he was.  And then I made the fatal mistake of attempting a greeting.  Here it is:

Me: Hey, what up dawg?

My mind just freaked at me from the inside.

My mind: What the fuck was that?!!!!  Did you grow up in the projects and not tell me about it?  Who SAYS that?!!  Are you Snoop Dogg or Snoop Lion or whatever the hell he is calling himself these days, are you his mother?  Sister from another mother?  What the hell?  You haven’t seen this person for YEARS and you come up with that??!!  What shit are you smoking?   Seriously.

As my mind internally gives me a beat down for my ghetto greeting, I attempt a strained smile that says “I’m really not a white Nicki Minaj…just go with it here, pal”.

I’m living in Newfoundland.  This is apparently how Newfoundlanders greet other fellow Canadians now.  We have developed an affinity to our brothers and sisters of color.  We are attempting to relate to each other with verbal greetings that resemble meager attempts at becoming members of hip-hop bands.  Next I’ll be donning a wide brimmed hat and saying ‘yo’ a lot.  Tourism NL should so consider me for their next advertising campaign.  Instead of showing the red-headed children frolicking precariously close to the Atlantic ocean as if not a care in the world upon those cliffs that appear dangerously high and jagged, but really aren’t that scary since the film crew is there to catch them if they step the wrong way, they should so show me and my whoop-ass deadly wide brimmed hat and chains with my “What up Dawg?  Come on down to ma ‘hood.  We show you how to paaarrrtttaaaayyy”.   My phone should be ringing off the hook.  It’s dope, yo.  Word to your mother.   I think dude will return to Ontario with a much broader appreciation for the cultural diversity of this province…or he’s saying to himself “glad I dodged that bullet.”

 Yeah, probs the latter….

rapper hat

2 thoughts on “A Word To Your Mother

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s