Remember when I let Mammy Beloved into my son's messy room?
"Yo Mamma tol you to git dis bed made! Who you think you are, ignorin yo Mama like dat? I tell you, if yo was my boy, I would whip yo rear end for de whole week til you be so sore you can't sit down til da next week!"
"An what do you THINK, puttin yo good bedding on da flo? Don't you know yo parents pay good money fo dat material goods, don't yo have no R-E-S-P-E-C-T fo yo lovin parents? What's a madda wit you boy?"
"WHAT did I TELL you about leavin da dirty dishes all over yo room?
An RED BULL? Child. that's more bull than red, and you be killin' yo sweet little body drinkin dat poison. Amen, I say to DAT MmmmmHmmmmmm? Yo heard me! Aaaaaaaaaammmmmmeeeeennnnnnnnn!"
I was elated at her caterwauling. So, I took her out to the living room.
"As if yo room wasn't baaaaaaaaad ENOUGH! Yo leave da living room in a tizzy? Wha's de madda wit yo arms boy? Yo can't fold da blanket? You can't pick up yo BVD's off da flo? I tell ya, if yo was my boy, yo might not even live to see yo old age. You better straighten up an fly right, or yo poh Mama will have de grey hair before her time."
I said Aaaaaaaaammmmmmmmeeeeennnnn to THAT!