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MIJA: You Can’t Be Whatever You Want…Get That Through Your Thick Little Skull

August 19, 2010

Mija wanted me to take her somewhere special, so I took her to the largest college campus in our area.

“Wowwwww!  Is this where I’m gonna be in a few years, daddy?”

“Hell no, not with your GPA.  You won’t even be allowed to visit their website.”

I pointed to an English class, “That’s where you probably would’ve spelled everything wrong and made the bell-shaped curve tilt so badly it would’a hit you in the head.”

She slumped.

I pointed to a math class, “That’s where you probably would’ve cheated on your test and still flunked because 98 wrong answers is greater than 2 right answers.”

She slumped more.

I pointed to the cafeteria, “That’s where you probably would’ve watched other people eat because we got no money and you probably would’ve tried to steal a Sloppy Joe and gotten caught and ended up with a criminal record — you thief, I raised you better than that.”

She fell to her knees, defeated.

I pointed to a history class, “That’s where you probably would’ve gotten an A.”

She raised her little head…stood up…proudly, “For real, daddy?”

“Hell no, I’m just fvcking with’chu.”

She hit the floor in the fetal position.

“That’s where a pigeon just sh1tted.  You didn’t see the poop?”

She hopped to her little feet, had poop on her bangs…kind’a made her hair look cooler, like with highlights.

She was pi$$ed, “I’m gonna make it to college one day, daddy!  You’ll see!”

“I believe you, mija.”

“You do?”

“Hell no.  I’m just a wonderful father who doesn’t wanna spoil his mija’s crazy a$$ dreams.”


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