There once was a handsome young black couple.
They had big plans for their future together, and she was betrothed to him. Everything was going according to plan till she discovered she was pregnant. She was nervous as she told him about it and he was devastated, but only for a spell. After all, there was no other woman for him and he knew it, so he quickly became enthusiastic about the pregnancy.
Fatherhood is a huge responsibility, and he soon felt the pressure to try and be the best husband and father that he could. For starters, they lived in an RV and he knew that he soon would have to get them a house that wasn’t on wheels, a house with a real bathroom that they could actually take a dump in.
She, on the other hand, was too busy enthralled in the joys of potential motherhood and strangely, didn’t suffer from any of that swollen-feet nausea-in-the-morning crap. All she knew was that she wanted this baby more than anything, and that her husband-to-be was wonderfully supportive, not counting the couple of times when he muttered unintelligible obscenities when she sent him to Giant, via Wendy’s, to get her the food she craved.
They stayed on like this for like seven-and-a-half months until, one day, she had a sudden urge to go gamble. Vegas is, of course, gambling central and even though he knew he’d have to drive all the way there, from DC, he relented and before you knew it, they were navigating through treacherous highways headed there. He had his .22 under the driver’s seat and had to bust a couple of shells in the general direction of a few degenerates, but they got there OK.
They were sick of the confines of the RV after the drive so they tried to find a Motel to stay in but there was no vacancy anywhere, not even at the Holiday Inn. After several hours they gave up trying and parked the RV at some Walmart parking lot and decided to make the best of it.
She woke up in the middle of the night; her water had broken. He hastily put on his clothes but yo, when he tried to drive to the hospital the RV wouldn’t start up! She told him not to worry, and that he’d have to do what he had to, especially since the contractions were real close together.
Despite everything, she was at peace and she knew, just knew, that her baby would be different. She’d had a strange dream the night before that her son would grow up to be someone important, someone really special. Like, in the dream she saw him doing things like changing Kool-Aid to Merlot, feeding thousands of people at some conference though he’d only had 5 McFish sandwiches and 2 bottles of Deer Park, gliding over the Hudson – and he wasn’t waterskiing or anything. In the same dream, he’d also had 12 really good friends, though they didn’t call themselves D12. The sad part of the dream tho is that he also made lots of enemies who wanted him dead. They tried to kill him and thought they had, but he showed up 3 days later, alive and well, though he had a few telltale scars here and there.
Alright, let me cut thru the BS; what I really mean to say is
Merry Christmas y’all.
Remember the real meaning of Christmas.