“Baby! I ain’t gon’ tell you again. Hurry up and get your narrow behind in the bed!”
Dion silently walked into the kitchen after his mother yelled loud enough to where the neighbors could hear, but not loud enough to embarrass Dion. Dion’s mother turned around from the counter where Christmas dinner was being prepared.
“Dion, what did I just say?”
Dion had a small piece of paper ripped out from a magazine folded neatly between his fingertips.
“What is it,” she asked with a softer voice.