Tell That God Damn Baby To Shut The Fuck Up

I had this big fight with my mom once, where I tried to convince her we were white trash. She denied it vehemently, it was almost frightening. My mom, true to her psychopath nature and bless her heart, is in complete denial. If you ever want proof that we have it good in America, you need only remember that my family doesn't live in a trailer park. If we can make it, anyone can. Just to win this argument again, I present our credentials.

-I have never met my daddy +15 points.

-I refer to my daddy as "my daddy" +25 points.

-My mom dropped out of high school when she was 17 to have me. +15 points

-My mom was on her third attempt at 9th grade when she 'decided' to drop out. +25 points

-My mom, very pregnant with my sister, married my stepfather (daddy #2) in our apartment. In the pictures, I am 2 years old and featured prominently. +10 points

-Also featured in those photos is my cousin Shawn, daddy #2's sister's son. Shawn is 14 months older than me, even though his mother is 2 years younger than daddy #2. That means she was 15 when he was born. +20 points

-Shawn is black, his mother (and daddy #2) is/are Turkish, and I am white. We don't, ahem, look very much alike. +50 points

-When I was about 7, I learned that daddy #2 was not my real daddy. My mom's sister's daughters (my cousins) told me. Their mother had both of them before she turned 20. Their dad, although not completely missing, wasn't exactly "around." +25 points

-Both of those cousins had children out of wedlock before they turned 20. One of them was arrested for trying to stab the father of two of her three children. She has since lost custody. +50 points

-My brother is named after both of his grandfathers. My mother, to get even with daddy #2 (his father), called him by yet a third name well into his childhood, leaving many to wonder what ever happened to that kid Ryan who used to be my brother. +25 points

-My sister decided to finally marry her high school sweetheart, in between the birth of her second and third daughters. They now have a total of four little girls, and they appear to be the perfect little family. Of course, you have to ignore that she dropped out of high school to have the first one (at age 16), and that her husband, by lying on his resume, was able to land a job as a marketing executive for a tobacco company, where he makes more money in a year than I make in a decade. +100 points

-My mom's father lives in a double-wide rambler in Woodbridge, VA. A 'renovation' to the house has allowed it to stretch from one end of the chain link fence to the other, to match the empty swimming pool in the backyard. The car in the driveway is a Lincoln, and has not run in at least 20 years, if ever. +50 points

-His wife (my grandmother), rest her soul, was named Jo Ed. That is not an abbreviation, that's the whole name. But it could be worse. Her mother was named Gay, and my grandmother liked that so much she named my aunt (the mother of the detectives who uncovered my birth secret and shared it with me) Gay as well. I'd tell you my mother's name, but honestly I'm just too embarrassed. +50 points

So I win, right? I mean, it's not even worth arguing about, is it? Let's call a spade a spade (just kidding, Shawn!). It's a miracle, not to mention a testament to the greatness of the United States of America, that we're firmly planted in the middle class. And my god, it scares the shit out of me to wonder about the people who haven't been able to make it. I mean, really.

I would like to think that I have some great gift, because I seem to be the first person in the family with the self-awareness to realize we're a couple of bad decisions away from dragging our knuckles and having to divide the family up into hunters and gathers. I'd like to believe that I can take these lessons learned and pave the way for a brighter future for my family. And maybe that does happen in the movies.

But in reality, this is where I am. I'm calling my brother, frantic, at 1 o'clock on a Friday, scrambling to get advice for this weekend's football picks. And he, clearly in his element, takes the time to pontificate about the point spreads and interesting matchups. It should be perfect- a bonding moment between two brothers. Only I'm distracted, because he's holding his newborn son in his lap and he won't stop fussing. And my brother is distracted, because it's hard as hell to play online poker, talk on the phone, and juggle your fussing newborn son in your lap. As we both grow ever more exasperated, I finally shout, "Jesus, will you tell that god damn baby to shut the fuck up!?" And when we both laugh, I realize daddy would be proud.