ATLANTA – As a father, I need to make sure my children are raised correctly and after overhearing my son chatting with his friends on the computer, I can tell you one thing for damn sure: no son of mine is ever going to “grind” for cosmetics.
I never should have let his sister play dress up with him. Hell, when I was caulking the tub last weekend, I overheard him telling her that he was going to grind for hours with his crew to get “this season’s hottest back bling.” And she encouraged it! I don’t bust my hump running the third-largest Hobby Lobby in the state so my only son can prostitute himself and defile his own body.
Is it the woke public school he goes to? Is that where they groom him to believe that earning a “rug to match the drapes” by admiring a grown man’s “stream” for hours is something that’s totally ok?
You may ask why I don’t just sit down and talk to my son, see what he’s up to, how’s he feeling. It’s because I’m a man and he’s a teenager and that’s simply impossible. I mean, how am I supposed to even make an approach when I hear him laughing in his bedroom with his friends about how he “absolutely unloaded into a guy at Shifty Shafts” and “shotgunned an entire squad at the Flush Factory?”
I…I don’t know. My son is a good boy. He gets good grades, is respectful of others, and is a good friend. But when he just casually mentions that he wants “the same incredible skin that XxDivaAngelxX has,” it just throws me for a loop.
You know what? Screw it. I’m his goddamn father and it’s my job to teach him what’s what. This weekend, it’s guy time. No grinding, no “slurping juice” at “Logjam Lumberyard,” just two men double-fisting tall boys at the lodge until neither of us can see straight.
