Ever have those days when the people around you all seem to be speaking one language, crazy town, and you are left speechless? I mean they say something, and though you rarely are left speechless, this minute, it isn’t that you can’ t think of what to say, it’s that you are just confused that you are needing to say anything at all? I’ve had a day rather like that. One one hand you have those speaking crazy town. On the other you have wise “real grown up” counsel reminding you that sometimes standing strong in your convictions will isolate you. Not by your choice. But they will isolate you. Make you a lone reed. Sometimes you are left hurting for a few minutes.
You know what’s great after those minutes? Husbands.
Well mine was anyway. I grew up in the straight food stampin, free school supply giving, you better not wear red or blue anywhere on your person (stick with canary yellow. Canary yellow wasn’t gang related) ghetto. We look out for our people. Even if those people weren’t really your friends, if someone showed up with their crazy hanging out, you looked out for your people.
I didn’t have a neighborhood. I had a hood. We watched Stand and Deliver and didn’t understand why everyone thought the kids had it so bad in school. It looked normal to us. Going to high school? Well then you walk through metal detectors. They check your back packs. No, your locker isn’t private property and probably, if the Dean finds your weed, he’s going to smoke it.
I once woke up near midnight to go pick up heavily inebriated school mates from a party. Apparently when word gets around that you are a designated driver your friends have no qualms with waking you in the middle of the night. So, at 2 am, we were turning our next to last corner and one of the girls in my back seat decided she didn’t like the attitude of the pedestrians crossing the road- an 11 year old girl and her 15 year old sister. My soon to be ex-friend passenger and the older sister went fist-to-cuffs. Me? I stood calmly on the sidewalk with Little Sister assuring her they were just being idiots and she was safe with me. I looked out for her. She was from my hood. While these other two girls broke noses and later brandished weapons, this kid clung to my waistline and said, “thanks.”
This is what I expect from people. Keep me company and tell me everything is going to be OK when the crazy talk starts. That’s what The Man did for me today. He had my back. He was loyal and loving and reminded me over and over that he was there for me- just a phone call away. Nothing says romance like a man willing to stand up for his woman. It’s probably a good thing he was at work when all this happened. It was DEFINITELY a good thing he was not wearing this sailor’s uniform in front of my face. Five is enough kids. I need to go fan myself.