Today was the day that Jam got to finally meet her penpal. They'd been writing each other, the " old fashioned way"...that's a direct quote from Jam that means with a frigging pen and paper.
She didn't understand why she would have a penpal that lives only 30 minutes away, and how or why they'd live such different lives.
Now I know this may be hard to believe but we have inner city schools here in Omaha. No seriously. Yes, really.
Which happens to be where Jams penpal attends school. *Sigh*
She hops into the truck after school, she says nothing and gives me the "oh hi" smile.
"Soooooooo ? How was it today ? You met her ..and ?"
"And what Mom ?...They are all, like, gangsters or pimps or something. All of them Mom !"
"Whaaaaat ? Gangsters ? Pimps ? You're in 4th grade, that's not possible Jam."
"Mom I know what grade I'm in thank you , and the first thing the boys from that school did was walk up to me and Dora and say : yeah baby you hot, you know you wanna hit this."
*Stop. The. Bus. Bitches.*
What ? Excuuuuuse me ? Aw hell no. Hell no. Oh yeah I want to hit it, and knock that boys teeth down his throat.
Talkin' like that to my baby girl ? No. Uh-uh, now Ima fuck a bitch up.
"Oh really, what was his name ?" What was his last name ?"
"Mom I don't know." *Rolls eyes*
"Ok what is the name of the school ?"
Back. Up. Wait. A. Damn. Minute.
"Jam ? My sweet, intelligent, above average, Yale bound, baby girl ....how do you know what a pimp is ?"
Nevermind, go to your room and think of a plan to make yourself unappealing and unattractive until you are 37.