Why Can't Everything In Life Be Mysterious...

Kenyatta and me, rotate Saturday duty for Samori. This means Kenyatta handles three Saturdays a month and I handle one. She's told me before that this is unfair. I've told her that it's best if we "focus on looking toward the future." She's told me that, "the future looks unfair." I've settled on simply repeating the phrases "retribution" "focus on the future," and "looking forward" undulating tones until she gets tired and takes a nap.

This Saturday is my Saturday. I'm supposed to take Samori to Spring football practice. I usually enjoy this very much. But I plan to be recovering from a hangover after taking Ten Shots Of Anything. I think my son will be disappointed, because he'll miss practice, and his father will be a babbling mess.

I suspect, though I'm not sure, that this behavior may have some impact on my status as a positive male role model in his life (This is to say nothing of his mother yelling "I can't believe you slept with that nasty whore!" in the background.) I think that Samori may have some questions for me, if not now, then perhaps when he's 18. I think I've found a most agreeable soloution. I'll simply peer deep into his eyes, with the smuggest, most self-regarding look I can muster, and say, "Son, some thing in life must be mysterious."

I think this is an adequate substituite for actual parenting. I think it also ensures another ten shots next Friday. Hey, ladies...

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Ta-Nehisi Coates is a national correspondent at The Atlantic, where he writes about culture, politics, and social issues. He is the author of the memoir The Beautiful Struggle.

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