I didn't know what "respect" was when I was younger, but I'm pretty sure of the day I learned to respect my dad. See, it was 1982, I was 8, my older sister Myra was 10. We were walking home from school and the nigga who liked kids (pedophile) was trying to grab my sister and put him in his car. We ran home and told my mother, who called my dad (who was at work) and he rushed home, by the time he got to the house he had my two uncles (Bobby and Perry) and my older brother (Matthew), who was 18 at the time, in the car. After calming the house down, he told me to come with him.

We drove to dude's house, my dad told me to stay in the car with my brother, as he and my uncles went to his house, dragged him out to his front yard and, as my uncles held him down, proceeded to beat this man within an inch of his life while telling him "don't fuck with nobody in his family."

Once he was finished beating him he got in the car and looking at me and my brother he said (very calmly), "You don't allow ANYONE to hurt a female in your family."

When he dropped us off, he just nodded to my mom and drove off. Mind you, the police came by later on in the day and questioned my dad, but I'm guessing when he told them why he assaulted dude, they laughed and left.

From that day on, I thought my dad was a superhero......and I NEVER crossed him.

#menareprotectors #respect #deathtoallpedophiles