A Mother's Waffle House dreams

First of all, I want to declare that I haven’t had cheese all week (such a feat for me), so when my son said that he wants a “big waffle” this morning, I spazz-ed out. We ended up going to the waffle house this morning and I got scrambled cheese eggs with hashbrowns (scattered, smothered, and covered—by cheese, thank you very kindly)…I am SO very weak.

A little more importantly than that, I was eyed by three guys at the waffle house. Now, normally I wouldn't be so easily honored, but my husband has been a little busy this week, and not paying me much attention (when I want if, of course)…These guys were driving this gaudy blue jag (the new kind) with 40’s on it (I don’t know, they were BIG)…the first two guys were dressed in general NC ghetto attire—baggy jeans, too big ball cap, and the illustrious XXXXXXXL white tee (not really my thing). They sat down and eyed my mohawk-headed son, and then smiled at me…one got on the phone with one of his “hunnies” and the other ordered. Apparently the third guy called and found out where they were and came,too. He was a little more preppy looking and gave me the once over (please let me also say that I was not on my cutie-pie tip…my hair is in disrepair and I need my eyebrows to be waxed very badly). I tried to play nonchalant, but noticed that they were having a small conversation about me. “Don’t do it, son, she’s got someone- look at her finger”. Nothing irks me more than a man of 30-something years still talking like he’s 19. Anyway, as I said, the conversation about me was SHORT. They started talking about what I figured out was court. Somebody got arrested for possession (one of them) and someone else got arrested for intent to sell (some dude, some Ni*%a) …are WE really still doing this (selling drugs and getting arrested and arresting black men in high numbers for drug possession, I mean)? I thought the war on drugs ended when Whitney said that crack was wack!! So the first two were asking the preppy one how in the world they could be getting charged as co-defendants with the dude that was getting intent to sell. I zoned out because I started to not even understand what they heck they were talking about (thanks to the brain re-vamping I got my first year in college, I can’t remember things related to the ghetto, I am now an educated “negro”). Maybe somethings are bigger than being eyed by some guys in Waffle House.

I started to look at my mohawk-headed son and wondered for a few minutes (yes, I went into what I like to call a meditation) what he was going to be like as a man—would he be the kind that at 30, still played video games more than they did anything else. Would he be they guy that loves his woman, makes her his wife, has children, and loves them all like he should? Am I asking too much and will I still treat him the same if he isn’t that person? Is he going to understand that he doesn’t have to be cool or down to be a real man? Will I coddle him too much and weaken his want to be a man and do what he should? WAKE UP, AMA!!!! WAKE UP!!!

I looked over at my precious little, syrup-covered son and realized that just as all of my dreams are possible, so are my nightmares, but that it isn’t my job to make it so—its his and I have to point him in the right direction, support him in his growth (spiritual, physical, and emotional), and push him when he needs it. That, my friends, is a bigger job than any person can imagine.

As we were leaving, and I followed him out of the Waffle House, he spoke to one of the men I’d seen, “What’s up, man?” in his biggest big boy voice and the guy replied, “what’s up little man?”

And I quietly said, “Ain’t nothing”.