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MIJA: You Been Smokin’ That Down Syndrome?

March 1, 2010

I think my daughter’s been smoking some Down Syndrome.

She tried to hide it from me but I found a roach under the bed in her Cinderella lunch pail.  Cinderella was high off the contact because her eyes were glassier than her slippers.

I first suspected mija was hittin’ the DS after she put her left shoe on her right foot and her right shoe on her head.

I do wonderful parenting so I notice everything.

Maybe the shoe thing was an honest mistake, it can happen to anybody, but then she comes home with a perfect score on her math test.  The girl can’t add, trust me.

For instance, I went to buy her some shoes the other day and she told me she wore a size 4.  Her feet didn’t fit, not even her toes.  I ended up buying her the shoes off of the clown at the circus and they just barely fit her.  So I don’t trust nobody who can’t tell the difference between size 4 and 20.

“Who did you cheat off?!” I shouted, “Lupe?!  Sandy?!  Gary?!”

Couldn’t be Gary.  That boy’s stupid.  I met him on a field trip once.  This motherfvcker put jelly on one hand, peanut butter on the other, slapped them both together and ate ’em.

He can never raise his hand in class no more to ask if he can go to the bathroom and just pisses himself now.  The janitor sits behind him with a mop.

“I didn’t cheat off of anybody, daddy.  Please believe me.”

“Swear to God.”

“I swear to God.”

Latinos don’t lie when we swear to God, so I believed her, whooped her little ass because I’ve noticed a strong correlation between whoopin’ her ass and her telling the truth, and that’s the truth.


Our children with DS are special…beautiful.  And our mijas can add with the best of them, trust me.   : )

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