Child Support (Part 2)

Fathers’

We’re supposed to help and support without court mandates or too late death bed gatherings and prayers. The best way to do that is to be honest about the times we didn’t figure it out— which for a-lot of us is our entire lives.

We need to listen without interrupting, judging, or injecting our own sob stories using our child as a therapist. Dumping our shit in their lap for relief. Catching them off guard for approval and acceptance.

Allow your child to come to you— without sinking them deeper into the life their asking for help avoiding.

If fathers treated their children like a ball game, dice game, the blame game, or the pimp game, every child would be well rounded and never feel love was missing in action.

Nahhh, Fuck that tho. That’s the problem. Dead-beats don’t take providing serious, so they cheat on responsibility like at their point in life, it’s ok to be curious. And in all fairness, it is—just not at the expense of… Ahh who am I kidding. Grown up’s always find an excuse and swear it’s a valid reason they ain’t shit.

FATHERHOOD AIN’T NOTHING TO PLAY WITH.  Absent parents lead to dropped futures. Fuck boy, you can’t build or heal, sitting on the sidelines and doing nothing. Plus, I always thought you was the real deal. That’s what you always bragged about. With your friends, whom now that I think about it, had an eerie resemblance, ya’ll were twins, from fathers who must’ve screwed over the same type. Bragging, chasing, flirting with other women—who never seemed to mind a child.

“What’s that saying? —, women don’t want men who aren’t wanted or taken.” I read that somewhere in the pussy scriptures-or one of the books written by pimps--great fucking literature.

Running through excuses is not a hustle. Teaching youth to play through falls, scrapes, and bruises YOU inflicted—is a healthy neglect—encouraging babies to grow up and pass the same test.