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I had my son when I was 17. I had my son when I was 17. Yo, let me tell y'all somethin'! It got that quiet when I told my mom too. It got that quiet when I told my mom too. Y'all just gave me PTSD! I swear to God, it got that quiet. My mom stared at me for 15 seconds and when she broke her silence, it scared me 'cause she asked a question she never asked before. "OH!! SO WE FUCKIN' NOW!?" I said "WE?" What you I'M FUCKIN', My mom punched me right in the face. 'Cause with Black parents, it's a rhetorical question, man. And I know why she hit me. She hit me 'cause she knew she was gonna have to raise a kid that was raisin' a kid. I was a baby at 17, right? You knew I was a kid because I had a curfew. How you make a baby and you can't even make your own bedtime? Like, I don't think people understand how hard it is to raise a kid that you can't yell at past 9:00. My son runnin' around actin' up at 9:01, and I gotta threaten him with a voice like, "HEY YO, MY MAN!" We 'bout to get our BEAT! Put that crayon DOWN!" 'Cause I'm whisperin', my son think it's a joke, he start whisperin' back, "DADDY! PEEKABOO!" I wish that was a joke, y'all. Real talk. I had a kid and a curfew. I wasn't even there when my son was born. YUP. It was past 9:30. So I'mma see that boy TOMORROW.