Keeping the Crazy in the Family

The following is an Honest-to-God text between my husband, my daughter and me. It happened one evening while my husband was working night shift. I’m not changing the names to protect the innocent because as you will soon see, there are no innocent here…

Husband: Here @ work. Hi Chelsea!

Me: She says ‘what up?’. Didn’t know she was gangster. Love you!

Husband: Love u too. She from the street?

Me: True dat! Ahahahahaha. Maybe I should put her out on the street.

Husband: Out in the rain, she street smart.

Me: She’s going to be drowned in that damn little dam she built on the sidewalk. My God, she drives me crazy.

Husband: Yepper.

Me: No, you don’t understand. She’s psycho. She won’t do her homework. She’s in a lather so bad she can’t even read.

Husband: Bummer

Me: Wanna change shifts?

Husband:

Husband:

Me: Fine, whatever!

Husband: (an hour later) BP, how’s it going?

Me: The weirdest thing was that she went to the bathroom and when she came back, she was calm and happy and friendly. She happily did her homework, remembered how to read! Freaking schizomaniac. I was a little scared.

Husband: OMG she nuts.

Me: You think? I have no other explanation. I’m sleeping with one eye open.

Husband: Take the phone to bed honey. Be safe.

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