’shell, you gone wear yo self out wid dem kids. brang’em hea to me.
yes’sum, eyes glistening pausing only to drop purse, laptop, sunglasses, file folders, ’shell cologne, sunblock 1000 and non leaching plastics and both guns. the two toddlers, she turns her back and they waddle over into grandma’s waiting arms.
they: why you always got ‘them kids?’
grandma: somebody’s gotta “have ‘em”
why don’t they be wit they mama?
grandma: they mama needin’ somebody to “be wit” her.
