Sunday, May 11, 2008
I grew up without a sister, and thus, skipped the whole sharing-your-clothes experience. At least until I ordered an Obama tee-shirt, Obama jacket, and thank gawd, two Obama hats from his site.
Suddenly, I'm thrown back into the adolescent stage I missed, and I'm fighting every day over my stuff. My 19 year old son Xavier grabbed one of the hats, checked out his fine self in the mirror, ran out the door, and I haven't seen since Friday night when he and his homeboy Go-Go rolled out of our parking lot.
He called me today.
"Where my flowers, nigga?", I growled.
"Too expensive this year, Ma, but I want to wish you Happy Mother's Day."
"Thanks, and ain't that the truth," I agreed. "Twenty bucks for a handful of flowers is criminal. You lost my hat yet?"
"Don't worry, Ma, I got it! I won't lose it!", he swore over the phone.
"I don't know," I replied. "Bettah not let it outta your sight. Go-Go was checkin' it out pretty hard. I think he wants it."
"He ain't like that," Xavier said dismissively.
Yeah, right, I thought. If he leaves it in his buddy's car, it's as good as gone. I saw that look in friend's eyes, and it's the same look in my daughter Casie's eyes over a week ago when the mailman delivered my package of Obama goodies.
"Where's my stuff?", my 12 year old demanded that day. She's as tall as me and swears she's bigger.
I rolled my eyes. "You said you weren't into politics when I asked you what you wanted."
"Pffft," she said, and happily tried on my Obama shirt, jacket, hat, and oh yeah, the button, before asking me sweetly, "How do I look?"
"Like you're about to get jumped," I growled.
It was awhile before I caught her. Damn but these apolitical kids are fast. Before I could retrieve my stash, her lil' friend knocked at the door.
"Oooooh," Gi-Gi said when she saw my kid all decked out in my Obama wear, "why are you wearing that?"
"Looks good, huh?", my daughter replied.
"Yeah," her half-pint Indonesian friend said. "Can I try it on?"
Oh, hell, I thought.
I'm chuckling now. It's been a week of sharing, and Casie just pulled off my Obama tee shirt.
She said, "Happy Mother's Day."
And hugged me, probably so I wouldn't notice the wrinkles in my shirt.
What a nice gift: my children aren't apolitical after all. I got hope. Think I'll order that tee next week. Thank you, Barack.
Posted by Kit (Keep It Trill) at 9:24 PM