Park Drama

Last week I took Elijah to our neighborhood park. It's kind of ghetto. Weed smell. Lightweight drug dealing. Your normal urban park scene. Nothing particularly dangerous. I am on the phone and Elijah is redistributing sand to his shoes and pockets when a brotha with his son approaches the structure. Then a sista, the mom, walks up visibly angry. An argument ensues. The poor little boy, around Elijahs age, is caught in the middle and cries out. Hella sad. Potential drama too, so I get up and get off the phone and so does the other dad who was on the phone (apparently the thing to do when watching you child play with dirt). Were both looking like "what should I do?Snatch my kid and bounce? Reason with the angry adults to not make a scene? Call the cops??? Then they calm down lightweight, but still drama is simmering. Me and the other dad, still stuck on stupid, decide the danger has subsided and sit back down cell phone in hand. Then the angry couple flairs up again, we stand up again, then they abruptly snatch up their kid and leave the park. Shortly after, I grab Elijah and we leave the park, never to return, at least for a while.
Fast forward to today, I am at the high end, rich people park in a secluded neighborhood. Clearly, not MY neighborhood. I can't say the name because I don't want the ghetto couple from my neighborhood park to go there. Anyway, this mom compliments my baby and says, "beautiful baby, blah blah blah, so you have 4 children?" I look her in the eye thinking "where the hell did you get the number 4?' but I actually say "no, just 2" (pointing at the baby I am holding and at Elijah 4 feet away playing with sand in the water fountain. The woman looks at me confused. Then she looks over at these 2 black girls about 7 years old and then back at me. Then it hits me: I am the only African/American adult at this park and therefore I MUST be the father of every African/American child in the park. Then a host of other realizations decend on me in an instant: Are they judging me by my lack of supervision of these 2 girls? (I ain't supervising them at all obviously because they ain't mine!), are they assuming that I don't know how to use birth control? Are they thinking that I have multiple baby mommas becasue of the wide range of skin complexion? (because of course they don't look anything like me or my sons) Dang, going to the park is complicated.
I tell Elijah it's time to go. Let's just go home and play with the dirt in the yard.

The next P-Diddy? The hell he is.

I was taking my boys for a walk yesterday and we were singing "We be an African people". Elijah was getting into it and rocking his head when the brotha asking for change (nothing related to Obama) says: "look at him, he look like he ready to cut a (rap) album right now!"

Now on the surface this was obviously a compliment that my son is ready to produce a professional album at 4 years old and I accepted it with a gracious smile and obligatory head nod but I pray to God, Allah, and Buddah that my son doesn't grow up to be no rapper!