“He’s a terrible kid,” Gus said. “Really, really a jerk.”
“Huh, really,” I said, slapping some green freckles on my drawing of Goliath.
“Mom,” he said. “This kid said things about YOU.”
“About me? Who is this person?”
“He’s this kid you haven’t met.”
“And what mean things did this person-I-haven’t-met have to say about me?”
“He was like, ‘Your mom? Isn’t even that great.’”
“Those were his actual words?”
I’m not even “that great”?
Not even that great?
What kind of half-ass, cherry-lemon ghetto insult is that? Clearly this child is lacking male role models, if this is what passes for a yo' mama joke these days.
“Yo mama is so slightly over her ideal weight as indicated by the BMI calculator in Real Simple magazine? She wear a size ten.”