My 17-year-old sister showed up at my house yesterday. While I was home. Weird because she has a key and usually only "borrows" my house when she knows I'm at work. She also thinks I don't know this little habit of hers. Busted, Bre. I DO notice shit. I'm a mom. And I used to be 17. Double "oh-snap", because my friends and I INVENTED half the shit you are doing now. Just ask Rachel (who is to thank for the snappy title of this post) and Melissa.
N-E-WAYS. Here's my point. There is one, I promise. While perusing the Mac(daddiestcomputerontheblock)Book, she happened upon my iTunes library.
GASP! "You have Tupac? Outkast? Why does MJB look so YOUNG? Who is H-Town?"
Yes, precious Baby Sister, before anyone needed to beg forgiveness from Mrs. Jackson for the knocking up of the daughter, your big sister knew every word on Southernplayalisticcadillacmuzic and ATLiens.
I might have even been smitten with Big Boi before he bothered to become anything other than Antwan.
Thank God I didn't have to explain KILO. Even I don't have an answer for that one.
This is hilarious!
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