We’re having a heat wave; a tropical heat wave. I’m not even trying to sing that tune right now because I’m crabby, moody and sweating like Monique after the opening number at the BET Awards. New York City is now the baked apple and although I’ll be the first to say that I’m a summer Caribbean baby, I hate being hot when I’m trying to sleep. The truth is, it’s my fault. I didn’t move the air conditioner from my old place to my new place and it now sits in my sister’s shed, while I sit in a pool of my own sweat. For what it’s worth, I’ve taken more showers than a prison rape victim. So, I’m off to my cool bath with my new book in the hopes that the water will help cool Cocoa.
Busta; The Update
Busta, the trusted side-kick, continues to limp. He’s eating, drinking water and lying by my side, but he’s walking like an awkward tripod of sorts. Call me vain, but I’m horrified by my neighbor’s stares as I’m dragging the handicapped pooch behind me. Last night while on our evening walk, one of the neighbors yelled behind me, “Sir!” I turned to see an older gentleman pointing down at Busta. “I think your dog stepped in something. You better check his paws.” Frog-face in place, I said, “Thank you. Apparently I couldn’t see him limping from four centimeters away. Thank God you were able to catch it from 50 yards back.” He huffed and said, “Hey, I’m just trying to help you out. He looks like he’s in pain.” Still the defensive parent, I closed the convo with a simple, “Thanks for the heads-up. If he doesn’t perk up I’m having him gassed.” He stormed off leaving me to stroll up the block dragging the miniature tripod in my wake.
Friday Night Get-Get-Get Down; G-Unit B-Day
Giselle F. is celebrating her June 27 birthday, while Diana C. is having her last hurrah with her colleagues this Friday at LQs (Latin Quarters) between 47th and 48th Street on Lexington Avenue. Gentlemen can expect to shell-out $5, while ladies will stroll through the gate for free. A free buffet and 2-for-1 drinks until 7 p.m. are on tap, while R&B, Salsa, Hip-Hop and oldies are played throughout the night. Join us early to avoid the latecomer line the eventually forms. We will be hitting the dance floor at 5:30 p.m. See ya’ there!
Recently an acquaintance of mine was called to her son’s school where the teacher complained of the child’s behavior. When the mother scolded and spanked the child, the bureau of child welfare was called. There appears to be a hyper-reaction to child discipline and spanking (of any kind) is now seen as child abuse. Not all child discipline is abuse.
Is it possible that in our effort to stamp-out abuse, we’re creating a generation of unruly and belligerent youngsters? When (if at all) would you consider it necessary for authorities to step-in with regard to a responsible parent’s child rearing?
Keep passin’ the open windows…