Eat Your Fufu And Go To School. Oh!

 

I just wanted to share with you a recent conversation I had with my mother, who is white. To truly understand the brillance of this it is imperative that you know my father is Congolese. I’m sure all you fellow American born African children can sympathize.

Mom: Your dad thinks your sisters on drugs.

Lady Half-Breed: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!

Mom: A couple weeks ago he went through her purse looking for drugs and he found a little white pill so he put it in a plastic bag to save it.

Lady HB: Of course he did.

Mom: Then the other day he came up to me saying that he found it in her purse and that I should get it analyzed to see what it is.

Lady HB: Anaylzed?

Mom: In a lab.

Lady HB: Oh.

Mom: So, I went up to your sister and asked her what it was and she said it was a Motrin 800 because she was having menstrual cramps. She said “Mom, my friend gave me two but I only needed one so I left it in her purse.”

Lady HB: He thinks all of us are on drugs.

Mom: She told him she doesn’t have the money for drugs even if she wanted them! And he thought you were on drugs too.

Lady HB: What? When?

Mom: When you were in New York. You were always out of money so he thought you were broke because you spent it all on drugs.

Lady HB: Right “the cracks” as he calls them because, you know, rent is cheap and everything and it was definately not going towards that.

Mom: I’m surprised he doesn’t think I’m on “the cracks” too.

Lady HB: He probably does. I’m sure he’s thinking about sending us children back to Africa as we speak.

Mom: He is.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed