"This is his third time in detention Mrs. YBLN. I'm afraid he'll drop out of school. He isn't dumb, but he does dumb things."
You stared at your 13 year old son who looked like he honestly didn't give a care in the world.
"Treyeon. She's talking to you right?"
The little boy shrugged. "She ain't talkin' to me. She talkin' to you. I don't care who she talkin' to, to be honest."
You knew this was a matter to bring home, so you didn't do anything that would label you as a child abuser. After all, this school was filled with white teachers.
"Okay. Thank you Ms. Mains. I'll tell his father about it when he arrives home and I'm sure it will never happen again."
You and your son left the office in silence.
Usually you would give him a talk then dismissed the issue so you wouldn't have to tell your husband since he was more strict of a parent than you were. Yet, you've had enough of your 13 year old's attitude.
It was sickening and disrespectful.
❉ later
You were setting up the dinner table and awaiting for the usual keys unlocking the doorknob.
Treyeon's heavy footsteps and running threw you away from your quiet thoughts.
"Ayo ma, what did I tell you about washing my durags?"
You ignored him which made him more upset.
"Wow. Now you're ignoring me. I'm sick of living in this house! GOD!"
Five minutes passed and the sound of keys by the door were music to your ears.
"Hey babe", you welcomed your husband home as soon as he walked in the house.
He replied back, but you could tell he wasn't really in the mood.
"Dinner's ready."
"Okay. Imma change." He took off his shoes and you were debating wether you should tell him now or at dinner, but you couldn't wait.
"I have to tell you something."
Your husband looked at you with a puzzled expression. "You're pregnant again?"
"No! Oh my—", you rolled your eyes. "Stop joking around, this is serious."
Laughing under his breath, he nodded. "Okay, so what?"
"I haven't been telling you this, but Treyeon's been acting up in school the past couple of months. I just picked him up from his third detention. Can you please talk to him because I'm clearly not getting to him?"
You can sense your husband getting immediately pissed off. Especially since this was occurring for a long time.
His face rushed red of anger.
"Treyeon! TREYEON!"
You heard running footsteps and the door squeak open.
In a matter of seconds your son was face to face with the both of you.
"Hi Appa...", the little boy looked at you then at his dad. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together.
"So Eomma tells me you're misbehaving in school."
"I'm not. Just like I told Mom, my teachers are racist. I know they all voted for Trump", the teen laughed at his own joke.
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