Mama didn't raise no bitch
Silvie swung her legs under the chair that was way too big for her in the counselor’s office, humming happily to have her three favorite people in the same room: her mama, her mommy, and her preschool teacher.
You were sitting beside her. Sevika stood behind both of you, arms crossed, looking like she was one sigh away from lighting a cigarette just to make a point.
The teacher cleared her throat.
“So… today, during the climbing wall activity, I asked Silvie if she was scared, and she responded—” the woman glanced at her clipboard to make sure she had the quote right “‘Mama didn't raised no bitch.’”
You covered your face with both hands. Sevika snorted.
“That’s…” you looked at her. “Not funny.”
“A little funny, yes,” Sevika murmured, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.
The teacher continued, with that usual politeness your wife has said a thousand times is fake.
“We just want to make sure both the child and her moms understand appropriate language for a school environment, and for a little girl in general.”
Silvie beamed. “And I climbed all the way to the top!”
You sighed. “Yes, honey, we know. Very impressive. But we don’t say—”
“We’ll talk to her,” Sevika interrupted, unconvincingly.
You politely thanked the teacher, apologized over and over again, and practically dragged your little family out before Sevika could make it worse.
Once home, you closed the door with a small sigh you’d been holding since the meeting started.
“Silvie,” you began, crouching down in front of her, “sweetheart, where did you learn that phrase?”
Silvie didn’t hesitate. She pointed straight at Sevika with the biggest, proudest smile.
You slowly turned. “Love.”
Sevika shrugged, not even pretending to be innocent. “What? I occasionally say things.”
“Occasionally?” you repeated.
Silvie nodded enthusiastically. “Mama says it when she fixes the pipes, and when she lifts the couch, and when she wins arm wrestling, and when—”
“Okay!” Sevika gently covered her mouth with her hand. “We don’t need the full list.”
You crossed your arms. “You can’t teach her that. She’s five years old.”
“But love, she used it correctly,” Sevika protested with a fake pout, as if that mattered. “Besides, didn’t she climb the whole wall?”
Finally, Sevika sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her metal hand.
“Alright, alright. I’ll tone it down.” She crouched next to Silvie.
“Okay, baby, new rule: that phrase stays at home. School gets… the softer version.”
Silvie blinked. “Like what?”
Sevika frowned, searching her vocabulary for something legal.
“You can say, ‘My mama raised someone very brave.’”
Silvie made a face. “That’s boring.”
“Yeah,” Sevika murmured, “I know.”
You stifled a laugh and hugged Silvie. “Sweetheart, you’re brave, okay? Very brave. But we have to use school words at school.”
“Okay,” Silvie said, hugging you back, her gray eyes wide open. “But, Mama still didn't raised no bitch, right?”
Sevika puffed her chest a little. “Damn right I didn't.”
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