Before Grits Were Grocery.

3 May


Mama don’t play and he knew it. My little brother Casa came running into the room rubbing his eyes and heaving, mama had just put a switch to his little butt. Mama had switches all over the house and always at the ready for smart mouthed, rough little boys. Casa had just put a run in mama’s last good pair of stockings and she was already running late for church.

My little brother from the time he was born loved women. Whenever daddy picked him up to calm down his fussing, Casa would stop for a minute until he realized the person that held him up didn’t have any breast for him to rub on and the screaming would start again. Daddy said it was a cry of disappointment. Whenever mama’s sisters would come over Casa’s eyes would alway light up at all the soft orbs he had to fondle and from one sister to the next he would go. Daddy said that boy would be the next Casanova and the nickname stuck. 

Mama never missed church nor was she ever late. She would be up on Sunday morning with the stereo blaring her gospel music and bacon in the pan. She had us up as well, all except daddy who didn’t care for church at all. He said, “preachers were pimps and Jesus was weak”. “How is Jesus gonna save me when he couldn’t even save himself?”, daddy would say. Mama put up with this only because she knew what side her bread was buttered and she also loved daddy more than any church or Jesus. Daddy was a good provider and always took care of home first and be damned the rest. The two had met about a year after I was born and they have never spent one night apart. He had always accepted me as his very own and that was the big and little of that issue. I felt the same as him; the only father I had ever known and would ever acknowledge. And mama knew daddy was their to pay the bills when Jesus didn’t bother.

This morning mama was running late and she was flying around the house trying to get us and herself ready to leave for church. Casa being Casa always waited for mama to put on her stockings because he liked to rub the backs of her calves with the tight nylon stretched across them. Little boys hands can be rough and Casa’s hands were. When he rubbed mama’s stockings the nylon tore and it started to run. When mama saw this she hit the roof and grabbed one of her ever present switches and gave Casa two fast chops across his backside. Casa came running into the room with mama right behind him, Robert Jr. mama said, you know I don’t like doing that. Mama, you love doing that, you got switches all over the house I said in my head. Mama continue–I’m sorry sweetie, but that was my last pair of stocking and I’m late as it is–mama sorry baby. Casa grinned that big grin and she was once again wrapped around his little finger. Now mama had to make a choice, go to church bare legged or wear the stockings with the run in them. Bare legged was out so the damaged stocking would be going to church with us today. By now daddy had came in to see what was going on, he saw the run in mama’s stockings and whispered something in her ear and they both almost collapsed in each other arms laughing. Mama looked back at us two and said we could stay home today, we looked each other and started for the door. She stopped us and said, “y’all better change your clothes before you run outta here”, gladly we did and in the wind we were. 

To be continued  



18 Responses to “Before Grits Were Grocery.”

  1. diaryofanegress May 3, 2013 at 6:45 PM #

    Can’t wait to read part 2.

    • hunglikejesush May 3, 2013 at 6:48 PM #

      the mother dies in part two. LOL!!! just joking.

      Thank you for stopping by.

      • diaryofanegress May 3, 2013 at 7:28 PM #


        • hunglikejesush May 3, 2013 at 7:49 PM #

          I have part written already I just need for this part to breath a bit before I cover it up. Maybe tomorrow or maybe not.

  2. hunglikejesush May 3, 2013 at 6:49 PM #


  3. mary burrell May 3, 2013 at 8:48 PM #

    I liked that. want more.

    • hunglikejesush May 3, 2013 at 8:53 PM #

      Ms. Mary please, this is public forum….OH!!! you meant more of the story. Okay, I’ll be posting part two soon.

      Thank you and I hope all is well.

  4. CREE-EIGHT May 3, 2013 at 10:07 PM #

    Hey, what happened to my comment? Anyway as I was saying, this should be completed and made into a film. My goodness!! As delicious as double-buttered grits.

    • hunglikejesush May 4, 2013 at 11:28 AM #

      I didn’t get any other comment from you Ms. CREE, I sorry I don’t know what happened.

      You always flatter me and if it wasn’t for the small fact that you live in Cali. and I in GA., I would give you a big ol’ hug. For now a virtual hug will have to do. I meet so many positive Black people doing this and other things it’s give me hope that we will not be completely wiped out by willful ignorance that is so pervasive in this our world.

      Before Grits Were Grocery is about us all. The part of us that knew our lives could and should be just like the people in this semi-autobiographical short story. All of you give me this to share with the world. I am the but pen in your hands and the Most High shines his light on the paper and as long as his light shines and your hand writes, my ink will flow. See you done gone and made me emotional.

      Thank you so much sista for stopping by and seeing about me.

  5. TrojanPam May 3, 2013 at 10:19 PM #

    i really enjoyed part one, it reminds me of the black women I grew up with. Good solid black people.

    Can’t wait for part two!

    • hunglikejesush May 4, 2013 at 11:42 AM #

      Believe it or not Ms. Pam part of you is in mama as well. The little I know of you went directly into her as well as all the women from the COWS family. I always tell myself when reviewing something or trying to understand a new concept or idea, just to take what I will and leave the rest. That’s what I do naturally now and my filter has gotten very fine. Your words and stance has kept me grounded as to what women mean in this time. You and one other super woman have keep me close. Of course mama is mostly my grandmother and very own mother, but those two were alike so I killed two birds with that rock.

      Thank you for the visit and I hope to hear from you soon.

  6. Amarie May 4, 2013 at 5:54 PM #

    I love stories like this. Thanks for sharing.

    • hunglikejesush May 4, 2013 at 7:40 PM #

      You are very welcomed, I loved writing this and continue to enjoy thinking of the possibilities we could have shared if this was a just world.

      Thank you for coming over and hanging out with us.

  7. Robyn May 6, 2013 at 4:03 AM #

    Nice story, reminds me of families from the 60’s and 70’s. The closeness of how they were, and the acceptance of all children regardless of blood relation or not. Positive black family 🙂

    • hunglikejesus May 6, 2013 at 5:54 AM #

      Thank you for reading it. Your little family was part of my inspiration as well. Domino and the baby well be this way once the little starts chasing behind the big one, get ready.

      Again, thank you for stopping by.

      • honeytreebee May 9, 2013 at 11:47 PM #

        Mess is we spoke of this too. It is so comforting to have us viewed as a whole and loving family unit. These images of us living in a loving unit is so important. We don’t get enough of this. Thank you for the warmth and endearment of this first part of the story.

        • honeytreebee May 9, 2013 at 11:51 PM #

          Sorry for typo it is supposed to say Jesus we spoke of this and the memories it brings up.

    • hunglikejesus May 11, 2013 at 11:11 AM #

      My whole reason for this story was to normalize the Black family. Believe it or not this is not that strange. I grew up much like this myself. A lot like this I’m sure, the same way you’ll raise your two little ones.

      Thank you for stopping by sis.

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