time for a whoopin

Yesterday Greg, Patience, and I helped our friend Jon move a fridge from our shed into his new place a few blocks over. We had the fridge wedged half way in the back door when we realized we were going to have to take off the door to fit it in the rest of the way.

While removing the door, two little girls that live next door came over because they wanted to see what we were doing. One girl was probably 5, the other one was still under the age of two. They walked out of their backyard, into the alley and into the yard we were in. The little 5 year old came up on the porch and asked what we were doing. We had a fun little chat about how we were moving in a fridge and it didn’t fit so we had to take off the door. She told me that we should stop and just call a “fixer” to come over and do it. Greg told her that we were the “fixers.” She looked at me and I said “yeah, I am the fixer.” She paused and then said, “no ya’ll aren’t.” She saw right through us.

We spend some more time talking about things like halloween costumes and I told her I wanted to be Nicki Minaj for halloween. She looked at me and with all kinds of attitude she said, “Ashley I need to do your hair.”

She stood watching for a few more minutes and then said, “If ya’ll don’t fix that door, I’m gonna whoop you.” :: all four of our jaws dropped::

“Hey, we don’t whoop people, we don’t think that is very nice.” I responded.

Finger pointed at me, “You don’t whoop anybody?” she asked, shocked.

“No, I don’t whoop ANYBODY. Not ever.” I said

“Well, if you do fix the door, i’ll give you some candy.”

We spent some time laughing about the conversation, half in shock, but then were really saddened that this is what this little girl hears and this is how she knows how to relate to people. Her mom finally came out to make her come home but the whole way inside she was trying to tell her mom that we were her friends and she just wanted her mom to look over at us and see that she made friends.  Just like that, we had a new friend.

God help the children of Franklinton.


2 thoughts on “time for a whoopin

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