DON'T TELL

My son's 5. Hardest part about that is because he's 5, he has 5-year-old problems, and it's my job to take his 5-year-old problems seriously. And sometimes it's hard. Sometimes it's hard. Like he kinda got bullied for the first time. It wasn't anything significant, but he was at school in the bathroom, usin' the urinal, and a first grader came in and told my son to “pick his pen*s up” and then ran out. And that was hard for me because now I gotta sit down, conversation with my son, and I have to engage with him, and I have to look him in the eyes, and I have to pretend like “pick your pen*s up” wasn't the funniest sh*t I ever heard in my life. And that is my responsibility as a parent. I'm- I'm tryin' not to laugh, I'm like, “Did you tell a teacher?” And he was like, “I just looked on the ground for my pen*s!” “Hell yeah male logic! Hell yeah!” 'Cause the last thing you want is to be at the sink and your pen*s is still at the urinal, now you got sanitation issues, you got much bigger problems. “Pick your pen*s up.” What does that even mean? I have no idea what that means, but I have been using that sh*t every day. It's funny. Last week I was supposed to go get drinks with the homie and he called me up, he was like, “Hey dawg, we gotta take a rain check, bro. I got a little situation with the wife.” I was like, “Situation with the wife? My n*****, pick your pen*s up.” What are you talkin' about? Situation!? Pick it up, rinse it off, put it back. Dry it off. I don't know what that means, but the phone goes silent and all I heard was, “You right. I do need to pick my pen*s up. You know what? I'm on my way!” So he came through and we got that drink. And he been crashin' on my couch ever since.