I took my daughter to Story Time at the local library. Basically a bunch of toddlers sit in a room and the poor indentured servant (librarian) attempts to read them stories. Eventually she gives up and resorts to singing songs. My daughter showed her ass.
She ran out the room about fifteen times. When she wasn't doing that, she was walking around the room playing duck, duck, goose by herself and when it was time to go home she capped off the morning by throwing a tantrum and falling out on the floor.
I just stood there dumbfounded because she'd never done that before. Being the only Black person in there, I felt torn because so many people joke about White parents being too lenient. I felt like it was my duty to go Roots on my daughter, but that's not really my style. Usually a good bass-filled STOP gets her back in line, but I was kind of concerned that I'd be viewed as just another loud angry Black person yelling at their poor neglected child.
I could see the anticipation in everyone's eyes as they eagerly awaited my next move. I let my daughter win that round. I played to my audience and, in my most sell-out voice, I told her that she was so sleepy, and shouldn't yell so loudly in the library. I gave her a big hug and kiss to which my daughter took a quick break from her performance to stare at me confused like, Who the hell are you? Capitalizing on the moment, she went into an even bigger tantrum as we left the library.
On the walk home, I found myself preparing for the ass-whooping that was to come. It was like a quarterback reviewing the tape of his upcoming opponent's previous game. Last time the spanking wasn't as effective because I went left with it, when I should've gone right. She's gonna utilize the couch to get away from me and I have to shut down that lane.
By the time we got home, she was asleep and I was too tired. I'll get you next time Gadget, next time!
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