Nature Boy: Mean Muggin'

Some stuff happened to me this past week that when I finally tell it, is going to be hilarious, at my expense. First I have to get over the sledgehammer hit named humiliation and the resulting embarassment.

I will tell you another Nature Boy story, and for a change this one didn't result in the boy getting beat-down. Everybody that was about to call CPS on me a couple weeks ago can calm the fuck down.

The girls were invited to a sleepover Friday night so after I dropped them off, it was just me and Nature Boy.

We rarely get any time alone together, so I was glad and he was glad. The plan was to go home, pop some corn and watch Twilight (he's in love with Alice).

First, I stopped at the gas station by my house. I set the little thing on the pump to do-what-it-do and settled in to watch the numbers fly by. Before I was done Nature Boy wanted a soda so we left the pump and started walking across the lot to the store.

I got to the door and noticed Nature Boy wasn't behind me. I turned around and the clown was standing in the lot, staring down a little man at the pump adjacent to mine with an absolute SCOWL on his face I have never seen the likes of.

He's never even looked at Damani like that and she's his nemesis. If he could make her disappear without any repercussion, he'd have done it as soon as she started being the one and only pain in his ass, probably around the time she turned 5.

I yell at him, "Donovan! What are you doing, come on child!"

He turns around and slowly walks towards me, bobbing from side to side as if his shoulders are weighted.

"What kinda walk is that supposed to be? Swagger? Boy you betta...."

"He was staring so I was staring back."

I didn't like that. Don't be staring at my kids, especially some perverted man. I had my ass-kicking wedges on too, he was 'bout to get some.

"He was staring at you? You sure?"

I'm looking back at dude now, scowling JUST as hard as my son was. He was just about little enough so that Nature Boy could have put the stomp on him all by himself. Dude threw on a weak, unsure smile.

"Noooo, he was staring at YOU."

"Me? Oh. Me?? Ohhhhh!" Wide eyed, surprised, I chuckled on the inside.

"Yeah. He was eyeballing you so I was eyeballing him. Like, don't be lookin' at my mama."

"Ohhh, I see. Well, I do look kinda good today baby. He couldn't help it." Really, it wasn't his fault. I was looking fabulous. A lean, mean, MILF'in machine.

Nature Boy groaned.

I opened the door and went in, Nature Boy followed.

"He was still looking at me, wasn't he? Wasn't he? "

"Yup. He better not be outside when we come out either."

"Hush boy."

I walk down the aisle to pick out my soda, shot a quick glance over my shoulder and Nature Boy comes around the corner shaking his head.

"What now?"

"The guy in the red shirt, at the register."

I look up and sure enough, dude is staring. He looks down to sign his receipt and then looks back up at me and smiles.

"Oh!" Once again, I'm surprised. Too surprised to smile back at him. He was cute too.

Nature Boy was full of himself. "I'ma take my time getting my soda so he can go on about his business. I'ma give him a chance."

Unfortunately, he didn't take enough time because by the time we'd paid and hit the exit, Red Shirt was only just getting into his truck and closing the door.

Nature Boy said, "Mean-mug. RE-ACTIVATED."

People type LOL all the time, but you wonder if they really did laugh out loud. I LOL'd at that one.

"Boy, what do you know about a Mean-mug?"

I don't want to be all cocky and say that Red Shirt was purposefully waiting around so he could catch my eye again as we were leaving, but it was over the top obvious.

I looked at him and he smiled back through the open driver's side window. Nature Boy was saying something but I didn't catch it. I smiled nervously. Then I remembered the cardinal rule, I don't flirt in front of my babies, and I don't pick up dudes at gas stations, lol. Nothing good will ever come of it.

I'll have to catch you later Red, maybe at the Bi-lo? No rule against grocery stores.

I looked away from Red Shirt and put my hand on Nature Boy's shoulder, bringing me back to reality.

"What did you say? I missed it."

Nature Boy groaned again and I thumped him in the back of the head.

"I saaaaiiiiiiiiiidddd-uhh..." I thumped him again. "...that daddy says it's my responsibility to mean-mug anybody that looks at you for too long."

"What!!?!!" That mottttherskuckerrrrr!! Ugly has gone too far this time! You just wait till I...

My thoughts were interrupted with Nature Boy's next statement. "So I was just doing my job. Only my mean-mug wasn't working so I was going to try the crazy-eye next."

Oh Lord! The kids dad has them blocking!!!! Mean mugging AND the crazy eye?? Son of a tobacco-chewin' bitch!!

So you know I had to tell Ugly all about himself for that one. We were at the kids softball game yesterday when I brought it up. He motions Nature Boy over.

"So some guys were looking at your mom yesterday, huh?"

"Yes sir."

"And you handled that right?"

"Yes sir."

"What'd you do?"

"Mean-mug. Didn't get a chance to use the crazy eye 'cause we left."

I'm at a shouting whisper... "OH MY GOD!!! Are you seriously having this conversation with my son IN FRONT OF ME?!!!?!!!! You better be glad all these nosy parents are listening to this conversation otherwise I'd call you some really bad names, REALLY BAD!!"

Ugly says, "Watch this."

He puts his fist out. "Give me some dap boy! I'm proud of you!"

I am fuming. Capital U, supersizefont. fUming!

Nature Boy laughs. "Tell her what else you said dad, about the crazy eye."

"Oh, I told him my whole theory behind the crazy eye. If a man thinks you have crazy kids, he ain't gonna want 'cha. And then even if he gets past that, he'll find out sooner or later YOU'RE crazy too, so he ain't gonna stick around long. I got this covered from all angles. All angles."

Bastard.

Then he says, "Boy, show her your crazy eye."

His theory just might be worth a dollar. I'll have to upload that picture later. Crazy ain't even the word for it.

~N

Nature Boy: The Southside Slap-a-Ho Crew

I was telling my friend Mike today about some recent problems my son has been having.

He asked jokingly, "Is he in a gang?"

I responded, "Yeah, the Southside Slap-a-Ho Crew."

Let me backtrack a bit.

I got a call (all these stories about my son seem to all begin with... I got a call... strange) the other day at work. The caller id showed the number to my kid's father's house where they get off the schoolbus. I'm thinking, cool, they're just calling to check in.

Noooooo, the boy is calling to tell me he's in trouble, again.

He began with, "Well, see, what had happened was..."

You know anytime you hear that, you're in for some comedy. And in the boy's case, an ass whoopin'.

"This girl, on the bus, she kept pushing me and I told her to stop but she wouldn't."

I answered slowly, "Okayyyyyy....and?"

"Well, she pushed me on the bus..."

"You already said that. Get to it."

"Well, I told her to stop, then when we were getting off the bus she pushed me again down the steps. I told her again to stop pushing me and that if she pushed me again I was gonna slap her."

Oh Lord.

"Ok, continue."

"Well when I got to the garage door, she pushed me again... and so I slapped her."

Oh LORD.

"But I didn't slap her hard, I really didn't. But she didn't get mad because I slapped her, she got mad because her shoe came off."

"You slapped her so hard her shoe came off Donovan?"

"No, I promise I didn't slap her hard! I don't know what happened to make her shoe fall off but then she picked it up and threw it at me and started crying. That's when Daddy came outside."

"Oh Lord." How many times must I call upon the Lord for this ONE conversation?

I'm thinking that little girl was probably just trying to flirt with him and he went and slapped the shit out of her. People, the days of little notes that say, "I like you, do you like me? Check Yes or No", are GONE. Outta here. Never to be seen again.

Now they say, "I like you, do you like me? Check Yes or Slap a Ho"

I investigated that line of thinking and no, come to find out this little random girl on the bus is actually his cousin (his dad's neice). Great, now I'm prolly gonna have to deal with her mama and we already don't like each other. We just tolerate each other for the sake of the kid's sleepovers, birthday parties, movie dates, etc.

Getting back to the boy... "What did your dad say when he came outside?"

"He told me to call you."

"Wonderful. I'm at work so we'll talk about it when I get home."

Fastforward to my conversation with Mike today...

He asked, "Isn't he too old to be getting spankings?"

I thought, ummm.... My grandmother, and I loved her dearly, used to tell me and my brother we weren't ever going to be too old to catch a beatdown from our parents. That's like an unspoken rule or something in the black community.

I still have to duck shoes and stuff whenever I get on my mother's nerves too bad, so no, he's not too old.

~N

Nature Boy: The Remix

My definition of Unedited = Fuck it. I've been trying to finish this blog for weeks now and stuffs kept getting in the way and my attention diverted. Ignore any and all run-on sentences, made up words and typos so I don't have to cuss you out. Thank you kindly.

***
My son. I love my son. I love my son very much. But the last stunt he pulled... I tell you, ain't nothing stronger than a mother's love, 'cause WHOO!, I came down with a case of AAWDD (Ambidextrial Ass-Whoopin' Disfunctionism Disease) This is what happens when a child is catchin' a beat down so bad that you have to switch the belt to your left hand because you pulled something in your right shoulder.

This also commonly results in PPTSD. In my case that stands for Post-Parental Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Translation, you went bat shit, and I do mean bat-shit- lunatic-type crazy on his ass and scared the hellboy out of him and any other children within a 3 mile radius who just happened to hear.

I'll (try to) get to the point. I got a call one day from the Vice Principal of the school. If you're a parent, you know that when you get a call in the middle of the day from the school VP, something is wrong. Either your kid is really really sick and they want you to come get his ass, or... he's in trouble... and they want you to come get his ass.

The Vice Principal starts out by calmly telling me he's not calling because my child is sick.

Well, it's good to know that my son didn't get a concussion from trying to be superboy and fly, or that he doesn't have an upset stomach from eating all the congealed fruit cups from the lunch line...and that I don't need to come get his ass.

Oh wait.

"I'm calling to let you know I'm going to have to suspend Donovan for one day because of his behavior at recess on the playground."

"Suspend??? What happened!?!" I'm thinking he got in trouble for punching some kid in the face, throat, back of the neck, pituitary gland... All punishable, yet highly understandable offenses... I mean sometimes, SOME kids really do deserve to get punched in the thyroid. I keed, I keed. Kinda... ok, not really.

The VP continues.... "While the kids were on the playground today, Donovan decided to unzip his pants and go pee in the bushes."

Did I hear him right? "What? He did what in the whaa?"

"He unzipped his pants and peed in the bushes."

"You're kidding right?"

"No ma'am. I wish I was. "

Nah, my son didn't whip his little weeter-weeter out on the playground. Not for no reason. Come on now. "Well did you ask him why he did it? Maybe the teacher wouldn't let him go to the bathroom. I've told my kids that if they really have to use the bathroom and the teacher refuses to let them go, to go anyway because they better not come home in any pee-pee clothes. So if that's wh..."

"I'm sorry, but that's not why he did it. That was one of my first questions. I asked him if he asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom. He said no, he didn't ask. Then I asked him why he just didn't get permission to go inside."

This ain't no damn elementary school soap opera, quit dragging that shit out and tell me.

"He said he didn't feel like walking all the way into the building to use the inside restrooms. It was too far. Now I don't know if he was being a smart aleck or..."

"He said he didn't want to walk that far?" Aw, helllllll no. His little ass is grass. "Oh my God, I am so embarassed. Do I need to come get him?"

I was already shutting my computer down and packing up my shit.

"No, you don't. He can finish out the rest of the day and then begin his suspension tomorrow."

"I don't know what to say. I really don't know what to say. You know what, I'm coming to get him. I am coming to GET him. Right now."

"No, no, he can ride the bus home, it's fine. I'm sure that will give him more time to think about how disappointed you are."

That was School Administrator to Parent code for: You sound like you're going tear his ass up before ya'll even get off school property and I just can't have that so you take this couple hours to calm yo' ass down and then you can beat him till his wheels don't squeak no mo'... when he gets off the bus.

After I got off work and picked the kids up from their dad's house, the silence on the ride home was peppered wtih my son trying to helpful and appreciative.

"Hey mom, how was your day today?"

I didn't even look at him.

"I think when I get home, I'm going to finish cleaning up my room. Yeah, I need to take the trash out too because I forgot to get it this morning. I might even vacuum if you need me to. You just let me know and I'll get it done, ok?"

I gave him nothing.

The twins were each looking out of the window. They knew what was up.

"I might even sweep the porch."

I'ma sweep your porch kid.

When we got home, I had to get the girls ready for a softball game that evening, so I didn't get a chance to sweep. The way I saw it, that was just additional punishment, time he would spend wondering when and where the hailstorm was finally gonna rain down on him.

At the softball game, he was extremely quiet, unnaturally so. My mom and her boyfriend had come and they were trying to gethim to tell them what was wrong. He kept sneaking glances at me, probably surprised I hadn't already told it.

Little did he know, I'd already told my mom. I had to call HER to calm me down after I got off the phone with the vice principal. She was the reason the vp didn't have to call the po-po on me for whooping his ass in the school parking lot. One day he should probably thank her.

Next thing you knew, the game was over. I bet he was thinking, "Man, time sure does fly when you know an ass whoopin is on the horizon! Dang!"

When we got home, we talked about it. You can revisit my earlier paragraphs if you're slow. I don't think he's going to be pulling out his lil' joystick in public ever again.

Pretty soon, I might have to abandon The Retarded Moth Chronicles and start a series on my son. I think I'll begin with a reference an earlier Penis Meets the Outdoors Adventure and call it: Nature Boy.

~N

What's in a Name?

Every now and then there's a good argument in the backseat on the way to the bus stop. Sometimes, for my own amusement, I just listen and don't say a word... My kids are pure comedy, and good comedy is not to be interrupted...

(and if you don't know already, the twins are 9 and my son is 10)

Damani: "Dahvin, it's my turn to sit in the back!"

Damaris: "Yeah, Dahvin, it's her turn."

Donovan: "How many times do I have to tell you two, my name is not Dahvin!"

Damani: "Well, we've been calling you Dahvin ever since we learned to talk, so guess what? Your name is.... DAHVIN!!! Bwahhhhahhaaa!"

Donovan: "How about I jack up your name then, DaMONTI? How you like them beans?"

Damaris: "Ooh, that's ugly."

Donovan: "And I'ma call you DamariUs, Damaris. Jacked UP, isn't it?"

Damaris: "I hate it when people say my name like that! That's not my name!"

Donovan: "Exactly. And Dahvin is not my name."

Damani: "Well, I don't care. I've been calling you Dahvin for 9 years and I'm your baby sister and you should just make an exception for me because we're family and because I'm gonna KEEP calling you Dahvin ESPECIALLY because you don't like it and you're gonna forget about calling me Damonti so I'm not even going to worry about it so now how are you liking YOUR beans Dahvin? And earlier you said 'them' beans instead of 'those' beans so you owe me a quarter for using bad grammar."

Donovan: "Little girl, sometimes you make me wanna kick you in the face." (That's my fault because I use that expression all the time.)

Damani: "We shall not engage in fisticuffs today. Sorry."

Damaris: "What's fisticuffs?"

Donovan: "Fisticuffs is me punching her in the throat." (My fault too.)

Damani: "Uh-uhhh! I'll tell Daddy!"

Donovan: ".... ... ok, so fisticuffs is not me punching her in the throat. Fisticuffs is me punching her favorite teddy bear in the throat and pretending that it's her."

Damani: "None of my teddy bears have throats. Try again."

Donovan: "... ... 8 more years and you're out of my life forever."

Damani: "How?"

Donovan: "'Cause I'll be 18 and I can move out."

Damani: "You better be quiet, didn't mommom make you pack a bag the last time you said that?"

Donovan: "Uggh! Why do you talk so much?"

Damani: "Whatever. DAHVIN."

Donovan: "Ugggggh! My name is NOT Dahvin! My name is DONOVAN. It's a very common Irish name and mommom liked the way it sounded so that's why she picked it. Try it one time. DONOVAN."

Damani: "Oh, so you're a commoner. DAHVIN."

Donovan: "I am not a commoner! There's also a football player named after me, so take that."

Damani: "Well, actually he's older than you, that means he was here first so technically you were named after him. Commoner."

Donovan: "Right in the eye Mani, right in the eye!" (My bad...)

Damani: "Me, I'm an original. Mommom gave me an original name. And my middle name is special too, I was named after a famous author and film maker. Oscar Micheaux."

Donovan: *snort* "MiSHOX. And you look like an Ox. And an Oscar too."

Damani: "You do not pronounce my middle name Mishox!!! You pronounce it Mich-O! E-A-U-X sounds like 'O', you commoner!"

Donovan: "DaMONTI MiSHOX. That's a jacked up name. Bwaahhhhaaaa!"

Damaris: "Well, mommom saw my name in a magazine. The lady was a model and she was pretty and mommom thought the name was pretty. And since I'm pretty she gave me a pretty name. Can't argue with that. (and then she bursts into song: I'm so pretty, I'm so pretty...")

Donovan: starts singing..."You're so pretty, but your sister's ugly... she looks like an Ox - so you can call her MishOX - 'cause she's so ugly...."

Damani: "What a dumb song. Nonsensical."

Donovan: "Nonsensical? You're such a nerd."

Damani: "Commoner!"

Donovan: "Nerd!"

Damani: "Commoner!"

Donovan: "Nerd!"

Damani: "Keep on and I'll tell mommom you've been changing into shorts everyday after she drops us off in the mornings. 40 degrees outside and you're trying to wear shorts to school all because Nakara said you had nice legs. Keep on, I'll tell it!"

Donovan: "... ... ughh! Can't even have an argument without you trying to tell something on somebody!"

Damaris: "I'm too pretty to argue."

Donovan & Damani: "Shut it Damaris!"

Nakena: (laughing my ass off) "Ok! Here we are! Get out! Have a good day at school! Love you! Bye! What's taking you so long? Get out! Bye!"


Gotta get back to work now, just wanted to post that before I forgot the good parts. I hope you've all been well. I miss you guys!

Bye!

~N