I graduated high school by my tenth birthday. I had my Associates in Business Administration by my 12th birthday. I acquired a Bachelor's in Computer Science by my 15th birthday.

The day of my Sweet 16 birthday I received my Doctorate, the Key to the City of Seattle and a special letter of honor from the President in ten countries including the President of the U.S.

I was so intelligent white folk detested in the great ole state of Washington because I was high school valedictorian before my period, bras, boys...

The best thing Mama did for Kingston and I was ship us to Seattle with my loving, humble, unsuspecting grandparents.

Ma Flo and Poppa and urge us to love Ghanelle from a distance. At first Kingston and I cried for nearly a week.

But when Ma Flo and Poppa showered us with toys, money, our own room, beautiful co-ed private school with two very humble, stern, attentive white teachers per class, no more than eight students per class, it was buh bye, big brother Ghanelle and hello Fantasy Island.

Because that's what it was.

A Fantasy.

Back in the Projects in southwest Miami-Dade County of the Sunshine Rethuglican State of Florida "Flawda," we lived ok via a dedicated mother that not only held down a regular job amidst hoes selling head, booty and curtain call pussy, but she had two side hustles...

One was run in the public eye...

The other was a parallel universe wrought with lies, money, drugs, blood and murder.

It was hard to find out that over my siblings and I wanting an ice cream from the ice cream truck led to the unveiling of The Grannddddd Openinggg of Pandora's Box in such grotesque fashion it ripped our family apart....

I thought back to that time in my childhood that changed course of everything...

Ghanelle was 11, Kingston was about to turn 7 and I was 5. We lived in the heart of the HOOD in the Grove. Coconut Grove. Florida. We learned our habits and potty mouths from observing the elders who didn't set good examples for the black youth. As far as I was concerned I never acceptedthe fact that the Hood would be my bread and butter.

I used to watch old black and white movies and imagine that I had my own house and car. I used to hate going to kindergarten. I had to walk two miles in the hot scorching sun just to get to school. I was so upset that my mom was so busy in her own world of work and catering that she nor dad bothered to take me to school.

They made me walk with the other ghetto kids.

During mid-June I was playing with my siblings and the other kids in the streets. Kick ball. My big brother Ghanelle won twice.

I was in my feelings. I decided to sit out of the third kick ball game because I wasn't gonna win anyway.

The instant we heard the first hypnotizing musical note from Ted the Ice cream man, Ghanelle dropped the kick ball and caught out running up the block.

I ran right behind him...

Kingston was on my ass.

"Waaaiitttr!!!!"

You'd swear we were racing for Olympic gold as we tried to get to mama before the ice cream man makes it up the block!

"Wait for me!" I yelled, my bare feet slapping against the hot asphalt.

No more kickball game. All the kids ran after the ice cream truck.

"HOOOOO!" Mrs. Daniels, a retired nurse yelled out signaling the ice cream truck to stop.

A sea of kids, all ages, bumrushed the truck, ninety percent of them had no money.

"Yall can't afford no ice creammmm bitch my mama got that child support check!" Ghanelle taunted.

"Tell yall mama to buy us one," some kids yelled at us and me and my siblings flipped the bird.

"Don't your daddy sell Ding Ding behind the rib shack and he can't buy you no ice cream? Ha ha! Get ya own daddy child support!" Ghanelle joked.

"Yea!" Kingston chided. "This our'n child support check! Yes hun it is! Me and my brother and my sister!"

We were almost to our HUD. I could see Mama prepping veggies. 

"If your Mama don' buy us no ice cream we gon tell the whole school we caught you sniffing ya daddy booty," taunted the broke kids.

When we saw Mama it's like the pearly gates opened with that heavenly aaahhhhhh!

"Mama! Mama! There goes the ice cream truck!" Ghanelle and the rest of us said in unison.

She's sitting on a stool on the front porch of her house, sweating like crazy as she cut up collard greens and skinned potatoes for a party of one hundred people for her boss at her job.

Side catering was her hobby. Profitable, too!

My siblings and I could care less.

The batmobile of the hood was the ice cream truck.

The melody of the ice cream van had all of us ah hoppin and ah skippin and our parents braggin about how much they looovvveeee us.

The sun shined brighter, the air filled with joy and laughter...

She didn't even look up.

"Ooooh Mama I want sum ah chips and ah jungle juice and ah mr. freeze cherry pop!" Kingston said excitedly. I was doing cartwheels and shit as about twenty kids glared at us hollering and crying because they were popped with a harsh "HELL NAWL I AINT BUYING NO GAHDAMN ICE CREAM WITH YOUR LACTOSE INTOLERANT ASSES!"

Another mother to her ten kids, "Wait till ya daddy get home from work. My money for my nails um goin to da Club tonnigghhtttt wit mahhhh gurrrllzzz!"

Lil Ant looked at his mama looking like she stepped right off the pancake box after Uncle Ben's nut shaped that nappy ass around that looked like a great wind was blowing it from the back. She was holding that raggedy ass pink slip closed for dear life with those black dirty ass feet in those dollar store flip flops.

"But the ice cream man will be go e when our broke ass daddy gets home!" Lil Ant whined.

She drew an ice cream cone on construction paper and crumpled it in her hands, sticking it in his mouth.

"Ice cream a petite mothafuckah and ya daddy don't got no money because he pays ALL tha bills you lil stank breath rodent!"

"There goes the mailman with more bills." said Mama. I was still jumping up and down. I was thankful the breeze didn't blow open Ant's mama's night gown. I heard her titties love to say to that jam they play at the DJ every Friday night in the Poke N Beans: dropppppppp! Dropppppp!

Record scratched.

Buzz kill Mama.

Talking about bills....