from T.Richardson's tumblr.The first year I was in DC I babysat a couple of times for this family in Cleveland Park. Their Mom would come into the coffee shop I worked at, and I guess my STELLAR LATTE SKILLS proved me responsible enough to leave her two children with. The kids were cool - especially the older girl. She was probably like 7, super-smart, really funny, and that awesome kind of KID WEIRD (she once, in a dimly-lit living room, told me that the KAZOO she was playing was actually a flute, but not just ANY flute - THIS flute had been GIVEN to her by MARTIN LUTHER KING, but when he was just a boy, before he was a man. These were her exact words; to date it is the absolute SPOOKIEST thing anyone has EVER said to me, and also the only time in my life that I had to physically PINCH myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming/hallucinating/accidentally on acid. Because for a second I BELIEVED her). One of the last times I sat for them she asked me how old I was, and when I told her I was 25 she looked at me with eyes like SAUCERS and screamed: TWENTY FIVE? TWENTY FIVE! YOU'RE SO OLD YOU'RE ALMOST DEAD.
Today I turned THIRTY ONE! And in an almost as-generous gesture as Little Miss MLK Flute's, it's been pointed out to me that 31 is almost 32, which is the equivalent of TWO Super Sweet Sixteens. So we can all look forward next year's OPULENT celebration...I'm tryna get P. Diddy; I'll keep you posted.