Friday, January 30, 2009
Guess what? He's baaaaaackkkkk!!!!
You know him...our favorite weed head :) My sidekick with the blogness, the Charlamagne to my Wendy....Craig...(n'em)!
In the spirit of Sasha and Malia…
(A DAUGHTER MOMENT BY CRAIG VERDE)
Last week, I decided to remix my baby girl’s breakfast. Instead of two Eggo French toast with Karo syrup, 8 seasoned french fries with ketchup on the tip (“One for each finger” she says…For EACH finger…the girl has all her digits, mind you….(Sigh) So here’s the thing…regardless of what she has to eat in the morning, she ALWAYS washes it down with a stink ass fried egg…salt and pepper.
She finishes her breakfast with a stink ass fried egg. EVERY MORNING. Captain Crunch cereal? Stink ass egg. Cream of wheat? Stink ass egg. Even on days on the run when she has Wise potato chips and a 12oz of Coke. She still bitchin’ for a stink ass egg! Now, my girl kisses me EVERY MORNING before she leaves to school. I shouldn’t want to throw up every time I kiss her goodbye.
For breakfast, sometimes I try to Jedi Mind Trick her into mixing it up a bit. "Eat a piece of egg…eat a piece of french toast." I say this hoping the syrup will overlap that funky ass taste in her mouth. But I guess that’s no different than mixing cologne with three games of flag football. I try to manipulate her as she’s eating. “It’s fun, sweetie,” I say. “Mix it up. Eat a piece of egg and then french toast.” She spits back, “No! Fried egg is my dessert. Dessert is always last!”
(Pause) You know…you just gotta’ laugh at a child’s stupidity sometimes. They can say some “real life situation” dumb shit. But I was in the moment so the shit wasn’t cute.
Now, I can’t put her into SHOCK by a TOTAL breakfast u-haul. I do that and she’d go into total “GATOR” withdrawal like last time…dancing around and shit…trying to stab me with her plastic fork. So…I started small. Same routine, but instead of that stink ass fried egg, I made my baby egg whites for the first time. It stink’s too but at least its healthier.
I cracked that egg, cupped it back and forth between the cracked shells. I poured out that yellow yolk. I watched it slither down the drain into the black abyss. As soon as the yolk disappeared, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I looked over at my little girl and she’s sitting there, staring at me. Like a lion would their prey. I froze. She looked right through me. Ahhhh shit. Here we go. But no…she smiled at me. I began breathing again. “You look funny, daddy”…she chuckles out. I muster up a half smile.
FAST FORWARD…EGGS WHITES DONE…
I turn the stove off. Immediately my daughter says, ”Eggs done already?” I’m like what???!!! First of all, why the hell is she clockin’ me like that? And second, how many fucking fried eggs you gotta’ eat to get an internal egg clock to go off in your head? How the hell she know the difference between fried egg and egg whites in cooking time?
NOW she’s pissing me the fuck off. I gotta’ admit, I kind of blanked out and thought I was now talking to her mother. Two peas in a pod, I tell you.
I ignored her and dumped the plate of egg whites in front of her like an overworked and underpaid waitress. “Eat,” I barked. She rolled her eyes at me. You already know where she got that eye-exercise from.
So little woman here stared at her plate like a confused, little puppy. Head cocked at an angle. She even poked it as if she were checking for a pulse. She then lifts the plate and looks under it, like superman would a car. What the hell is she looking for UNDER the plate?
At times like this you gotta’ have patience with a child.
So here I am…(IN ONE BREATH)...”What the hell you doin?!” C’mon now, I don’t got time for this, girl! I gotta go to work. You don’t play this crap with yo momma’. Let’s go! EAT!"
“But daddy, what’s this?” she said.
“Egg whites,” I shot back…
“But I like my egg yellow.”
“Well, today, you’re having egg WHITES, no yellow…WHITES!”
“But I want my egg YELLOW”
I said, ”Look…” and I LOOKED at her. I gave her that “LOOK”…like “I will FUCK you up little girl” look. But then she gave ME the “LOOK”...Like, “I’ll tell MOMMY on yo ass and SHE will FUCK YOU UP!” look.
I took a breath and changed my approach, like the punk I am.
“Princess, try the eggs, please?”
“NO!!! YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW…(repeat 93 times)
Apparently, 12 minutes of saying “Yellow” can work up an appetite. She gave in and gave it a taste. After two chews, she stops. Frozen in deep thought, (or the deepest you can go for a five year old) she looks up at me with her mother’s angel eyes and says…
“Where’s the meat? This is a vegetarian egg? Daddy, we not veterinarians. I want the chicken part of the egg. What’d you do with the chicken daddy? I saw you put something in the sink. I want a chicken egg!”
“YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW"…(repeat 93 times)
The next day…normal routine…but this time I gave her TWO fried eggs.
That’s my child and I love her slow ass.
BABY GIRL’S BREAKFAST SONG
My president is Black, my hair braids tight!
If my eggs look white, then my eggs ain’t right!
What’s the craziest or dumbest thing you’ve seen a child do? Yourself included.