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Amina Jackson 23 Miami, Florida
"Mommy?" Amour mumbled from the back seat breaking the silence of the car.
"Are you dying? Is your cast itching? Did the door open? Or did someone drop something?" I asked focusing on the road.
"No ma'am." She mumbled again.
I hate that mumbling shit don't mumble now that you're in trouble y'all how you were talking when you was acting an ass.
"Then sit the fuck back and stop talking to me you have no reason to be talking. You did enough of that at the hospital when y'all was acting an ass." I watched her face frown up through the mirror as we locked eyes and tear fell out her eyes.
I hate seeing my baby cry but I refuse to raise kids that have no home training and that are bluntly disrespectful.
I pulled into Ricardos driveway hoping out and grabbing Ava who looked like a dear in head lights.
"Oh ya you in trouble too." I spoke grabbing her bag and ushering her to the front door of the house.
I don't know how he deals with that type of stuff or how he would even address it. How other people raise their kids is their business.
I rang the door bell while rubbing my belly.
Damn y'all lil motherfukas just be moving.
I stood there as I heard him untwist the locks and pull the door open. Standing in the door way was Ricardo shirtless with his gray sweatpants on.
"Wassup babygirl?" He licked his lips leaning toward me.
I put my hand on his chest stopping him, "not in front of my kids or yours."
He scrunched his face up before looking at the knee leveled child that stood on the porch.
He scrunched his eyebrows together when he noticed the bag on my shoulder and the guilty looking child.
"What happen?" He asked as he stood up straight and took the Dora bag off my shoulder.
"Tell him Ava because if you don't I'll say EVERYTHING." I emphasized everything because I know she don't want me to tell her daddy all the shit she do.
"I be bad at the hospital when uncle meat head and Poot babysit. I'm sorry." She looked down at her feet.
