Y’all are prisoners, prisoners of convention. You dole out cash to your kid for every stupid, cavity-ridden tooth that falls out. I mean, what the fuck? Have you forgotten that you are the Tooth Fairy, you are the Easter Bunny, you are that jolly ass Santa! Wake up! You establish the market and you make the rules. Instead of candy, give your kids vitamins; instead of money, give them a washcloth and soap. And if your alcoholic mother still wants to give them money, you take that dollar and tear it in half, and take that damn half a dollar and put it under your kid’s pillow so that when they wake up and see it, they will have to ask themselves, “What did I do wrong?” Doesn’t matter that they didn’t do anything wrong, they think they did, and the guilt and fear makes them manageable. It fucks with their head and prepares them for life. And that is good parenting.
There’s an emotional song I enjoy listening to, I don’t remember the name but I Iove the fuck out of the song. That being said, there are some lyrics that I feel are misleading. For instance, “I believe the children are our future . . .” That lyric single-handedly fucked up parenting. Also, “Show them the beauty they possess inside . . .” Beauty should be obvious. Something that has to be shown is not. And let’s be honest, most kids are not beautiful inside, they’re just rotten. I’m not saying it’s always the kid’s fault, but it’s simple math. If every other piece of fruit in the house is rotten, how do you think that little ass tangerine is gonna turn out?
Really, parenting begins right when that damn baby pops out! If that doctor doesn’t slap that ass good, things will never be right. Next big moment is feeding that damn baby. Now, I was a breast baby myself, and that’s the best way to go. Canned milk is all right, but it ain’t as good as breast milk. “Why did I say ‘breast milk’ instead of ‘titty milk’?” you ask. Because breast milk is for the baby and titty milk is for the daddy . . . if you’re into that kind of thing. Now, back to breast milk versus canned milk: Don’t get me wrong, although breast milk is better, you can still fuck your kid up with that stuff ’cause you have to know when to get your kid off the titty. See, I said “titty” there, because when that breast turns back into a titty, it’s time to get that damn kid off it! I saw a documentary where this lady was still titty feeding her eight-year-old kid, and she was having trouble weaning him off. As a matter of fact, she said she started trying to get him to stop when he was five. Hell, at five that little muthafucka was already too old! Mothers, you want a tip on how to wean your baby (or in some cases your husband or boyfriend) off the titty? Hot sauce! I had a friend that said his mother got him to stop sucking his thumb by putting hot sauce on it. I suggest you put some hot sauce on your nipple, but make sure to put some Vaseline on first so you don’t burn your shit. Trust me, when whoever goes in for a sweet sip gets hit with that red-hot taste, the suck session will be over.
One disclaimer: If you’re dating someone black, the hot sauce might not be a deterrent. I’m just saying.