It's been a pretty lazy day. I've stayed in the house all day watching music videos and playing Words With Friends. My son came into my room to snuggle and watch television with me. We settled on a show called Soul Squared that comes on VH1 Soul. The premise of the show is that they show two videos by the same artist back to back. I really like the show because they normally play great music from awesome artists.
Like today, as my son and I were laying in bed they played some videos from Michael Joseph Jackson or MJJ as I lovingly call him. The videos were "In The Closet" and "Rock With You". While we watched these videos the kid commented on the tightness of MJJ's pants (in both videos), his girl hair, the glitter on his pants, his new girl face. Every comment causing me to grit my teeth in anger and frustration because I really want to say something to the kid for his hateration. But who really calls a 6 year old a hater? Not Tee. Anyway, I guess he was sitting close enough to feel the steam coming out of my ears because he whispered to me in a tone that was meant to not hurt my feelings, "Mommy...ummmm...in this video Michael Jackson is b-r-o-w-n, in that other one he was w-h-i-t-e...". I didn't even bother to respond. I just turned the volume up a bit.
So then a Robin Thicke video came on, it was the one for the song "Magic". The kid says, "Mommy, he don't dance good like Michael Jackson". This made me smile. It's obvious he's trying to make up for the heinous things he said before. I accept his subliminal apology and snuggle a little closer. As we sit there talking about what the song is about and how there's nothing "magical" about the video. In this case, that means no flying superheroes, intergalatic battles, or random lightning bolts striking folks in the street. So the next Robin Thicke video comes on, it's "Dreamworld". Kind of dark. The subject matter in the song is pretty serious. We watch in silence for a minute or so and then the kid asks a question that leads to the following asinine conversation that resulted in me banishing him to his room with Drake & Josh and Big Time Rush. Check it out:
Him: Mommy, can I ask you a question?
Me: Ask.
Him: Is Robin Thicke a real white man or a fake one like Michael Jackson?
Me: Say what? Michael Joseph Jackson is most definitely a black man!
Him: Not really.
Me: What do you mean not really?
Him: I mean he was brown but then he wasn't no more. He looked-ed like a white lady.
Me: Are you serious? Are you seriously gonna sit here and say that to me?
Him: I'm sorry Mama. That's just reality.
Me: Get out. Go to your room!
Him: What I do? All I said was he looked-ed like a white lady. You said always tell the truth. And THAT'S the truth.
Me: No the truth is Robin Thicke is white. Michael Jackson is black. And YOU are going to your room because this conversation is over! *silently pointing to my bedroom door*
Can you believe this shit? I'm fuming! Did he really just call my idol a white broad? See this is the type of behavior that gets a kid sent to Switzerland for military school or your letter to Santa returned to sender. I'm pissed.
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