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AllUrbanGossip.com – All the latest black gossip!/

Hey kids. Don’t think I forgot about ‘cha. Today wasn’t a particularly eventful day, so I am forced once again to dredge up more absurd childhood memories.

One night, when I was about five, I asked my mother to take me to Pizza Hut for dinner. She told me no and I was very, VERY upset. They used real cheese back then. I couldn’t understand why she said no: there was a Pizza Hut in my neighborhood, we knew how to get there and I wanted some pizza. Never mind that it was after dark and raining. And we didn’t have car. In my mind, there was no reason I should be denied my Pizza Hut. To add insult to injury, dinner was something particularly crummy: baked chicken, mashed potatoes and corn.

Toys and warm bed be damned, I wasn’t trying to live in a house where I couldn’t have Pizza Hut on demand. I grabbed a plastic grocery bag and filled it with some Matt's cookies (the bomb-ass fake Oreos they stopped making), a blanket, a baby doll and my life savings. Hopefully, five dollars in change would get me a personal pan pizza and a new home. Then I drafted a very serious letter of farewell to my oppressive mother:

Mom
I gon 2
Pizza
hut
Bye SISTER TOLDJA*

It took me about twenty minutes to gather the courage to leave; I had to wait until I was sure my mother wouldn’t hear me open the door to our apartment. I didn’t walk to Pizza Hut, for fear someone we knew would bring me back to my evil mother. There was a little cubbyhole under the stairs in the hallway that led to our apartment; I decided that would be my new home. I set my things up and proceeded to eat my revolutionary cookie dinner. I pondered what my life would be in my new place and how my mother would feel about living without me. Would I say hello to her in the mornings when she left the building? Could we be friends? Would I still be welcome to come in and reload on cookies? Could the cat come live with me? How would I watch TV?

As I pondered all of this, I realized that I was kinda hungry. Three cookies wasn’t enough. I wished I had the nerve to go to Pizza Hut and I was building it up, when I saw my first visitor. How on Earth had my mother found me? Why couldn’t she accept that I had moved on?

“Get your ass back upstairs. Now.”

And that was the end. I was back to living at home, my freedom was gone.The ten minutes I spend living on my own taught me a lot. I think my independent spirit blossomed that day. It was truly an experience.

My kids are going to be dreadful. I know this for sure.
Peace (and Pizza Hut)
Sister Toldja

*-I wrote my real name, but if I told you that, you may steal my idenity and get embarrassed when you try to buy things in my name. I'm helping YOU out.