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I couldn’t have my son out here looking like some lame ass little boy who was going to shower some little girl with gifts, so she could like him. Don’t get me wrong, I had the most handsome son out, but just because you looked nice, that didn’t make you immune to being silly over someone. Lil nigga wasn’t only handsome, but he was too fuckin’ fly. I’ve been around lil’ man for over a month, and I ain’t never even seen him repeat a pair of shoes. Today, he was in a pair of black and neon green Nike shorts with a matching black shirt. Black and neon green Nike Air Maxes were on his feet, and he wore the chain around his neck that I’d gotten him last week. His hair wasn’t braided today, so he had it pulled up in a ponytail.
Lil Bill had been telling me how he wanted dreads, but Sidnesha wasn’t having that shit. When it came to shit like that, I didn’t want to have the final say so because, for one, Nesha did his hair, and I didn’t want to make a decision on something that I didn’t know much about. I was just in charge of taking him to get his line-ups. If I had it my way, though, I would just want him to cut it off because even with this ponytail, he looked like a little girl.
“What you mean what she got me? She be buying me v-bucks for Fortnite. You don’t even have to buy the shoes for me. I got my own money,” he said, pulling out his wallet and showing me his debit card.
I laughed and then placed my hand on the back of his head, pulling him into me. I kissed the top of his head, and we continued to walk.
“What your mama got to say about this lil girlfriend? I know she got a lot to say,” I asked, and he laughed.
“Mama can’t stand her. She be taking my phone from me at night because she don’t want me talking on the phone with her. I think she’s just jealous that I’m giving my attention to somebody else. But she don’t have to be jealous. That’s my number one girl forever,” Lil Bill said.
He loved his mama in the way that I loved mine, and I loved that about him because I couldn’t stand a boy who thought they were too cool to show love to their mama.
“She be babying me too much, Dad. I’m growing up. I’m about to be eleven soon,” he voiced.
I couldn’t even believe that my lil man was about to be eleven in just two more months. That fuckin’ time flew by so fast. Because I had missed out on five birthdays, I knew that whatever my son wanted to do as far as a birthday party, I wasn’t sparing any expense because I owed him that much. I swear, if his young ass was old enough to drive, I would fuck around and cop him a car.
“You are her only child, so she going to be all on you like that. She means well, though. What’s up with you, lil mama? I know you ain’t got no boyfriend. I’ll beat his lil ass up,” I joked, picking my daughter up and holding her in my arms. She laughed as I tickled her.
“I don’t have no boyfriend, Daddy. Boys are grossss,” she dragged.
“I want you to keep this same energy ten years from now. I’m holding you to this,” I told her.
She nodded her head up and down like she was never going to change her mind about how she felt about boys.
We walked into the kids' Gucci store that was on the lower level of the mall, and when we got inside, I put Khari down. My son instantly went over to the girl’s section, looking for what he wanted for his girl. Listen, I wasn’t encouraging this shit, but I just looked at it as something innocent. I was my son’s age before. I knew how it was to have a lil crush on somebody. When I was his age, my mama would take me the day before Valentines’ day to pick up a lil something too for the shorties that I was crushing on. Shit, it wasn’t like I was taking his lil ass to Jared’s to get his shorty a wedding ring. I gave it to the end of the month, and his ass was going to be on to the next one. That’s how little boys were. They didn’t know shit about love.
“Can I get this, Daddyyyy?” my daughter cooed, picking up a cute Gucci purse and showing it to me. It had a bunch of colors on it, and it was cute for her.
“Yeah. I’m going to sit down right here. Anything you want, show it to the lady,” I let her know.
I probably shouldn’t have told her ass that because she was more than likely going to go crazy in this store, but whatever. I worked hard so my kids could have whatever they wanted.
I hadn’t heard from Normani all day, so while Lil Bill and Khari did their thing, I pulled my phone out and started a Facetime call. I hoped she would answer because whenever I tried to call her on Facetime, she always tried to dodge a nigga. If I hadn’t seen her in person, I
would’ve thought that she was catfishing a nigga. The phone eventually connected, and that’s when her face popped up on the screen. From her surroundings, she looked like she was in a kitchen. I assumed that she was home based on the grey tank top she had on. This was the most laid-back attire that I’d ever seen her in.
“I was beginning to think that I needed to buy you a new phone. You never answer me when I call you on Facetime,” I spoke into the phone.
At the same time, I was squinting, trying to get a good look at her background and make sure that there was no nigga in there.
She laughed at me and then rolled her eyes.
“You always Facetime me at the oddest hours of the day. There are times when I’m meditating, times when I’m in the shower, reading, writing, and I can’t answer the Facetime call. You caught me at a good time tonight. I’m in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Where are you?” she asked.
I could hear whatever she was making sizzling and shit in the background. From what I was able to see in her kitchen, I could tell that her home was nice. Her kitchen looked like one that would be featured in a magazine for luxury homes. I didn’t expect anything less from her, though, because her ass had good taste.
“I’m at the mall with my kids. I hope you not over there cooking a pre-Valentine’s Day meal for a nigga,” I said, and she laughed.
“You say some of the craziest things out of your mouth. I thought you didn’t know that Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. I brought it up to you, and you pretended like you didn’t know what I was even talking about,” she said.
“Shit, I don’t. That’s just what I keep hearing,” I said, all nonchalant, like tomorrow was no big deal to me.
“These too, Daddy? Can I have these too?” Khari asked, walking over and showing me three pairs of damn shoes.
Two of them were sneakers, and the other one was a sandal. There was a little couch next to me, which had all kinds of shirts, skirts, and dresses that the saleslady had brought over in Khari’s size, which were all things that she had requested for her to bring. She obviously got that shit from her mama because I personally knew how much Denim liked to shop.
“Yeah, and that’s it. What you trying to do? Break my pockets?” I asked.
