Hey, LTL, FTP, all that.

So, the Fella and I (26M/25F, if that's still the thing) have been together for 11-ish years now. We have a 10y/o daughter together, she's the best :D

Important to know about the Fella; he was born in Mississippi (bless him), was raised catholic by a widowed black mother (he's half white). You'll never meet a nicer, sweeter, more loving or more patient fool.

Me, I'm a second generation Belfast immigrant (as are my younger brothers). Suffice to say, we use 'fuck' like a comma. Fella constantly touts that we have the 'biggest potty mouths on this side of the country', lol. We can't help it, it's in our DNA.

This story takes place about six years ago, when baby girl was four. Myself, Fella and her were on the way to Wal-Mart. We live in a small-ish town, so people have a nasty habit of thinking they're in Fast And Furious and overall drive like ingrates.

There was this yee-yee lifted truck that we'd been cruising alongside for a little while at that point. The driver, a forty-something year old white dude smoking a cigarette with three kids in the back, was already on my bad side (and not just because of the truck); there'd been what I believe was a Middle Eastern immigrant family - mom was wearing a hijab, if that helps - holding up gool ol' fashioned cardboard 'Anything Helps' sign at an intersection. Never bothered anybody, just standing with their signs trying to get what they could. (the intersection had one of those little concrete island things to try and guide people to not crash into each other, that's where they were standing). Well, this happy camper decides he'd help them out by yelling 'get a job, ya fucks!' at them. I would have read him the riot act, but he seemed like the kind of nutcase that keeps a shotgun in the glove compartment, and I was NOT in the mood to get shot.

Little honey was in the middle of telling us a story of some playground altercation that had gone down that day (something to do with someone getting called a poopy head). She's always been a great storyteller, so Fella and I are on the edge of our seats, haha. Well, truck guy must have been in a real fuckin rush to get to the bar or wherever people like him hang out, because the light had been green for exactly 0.01 seconds before he FLOORS it, hairpin turning in front of us before driving off and leaving a near-black puff of smoke behind him.

Fella, naturally, blares the horn along with several other drivers. Now that I'm out of his sight, I flip him off with both hands. We start going forward when little miss, from the back, in her sweet little voice, declares...

"Jesus! That guy must have blown his driving instructor, because there's no way he passed his test by himself."

Of course, my heart stops. Nobody likes hearing their four year old say shit like that. The Fella? The Fella's like a lot of southern dads (that I've met) that have a harder time when their little girls are growing up - no, he doesn't baby or infantilize her or anything like that, but he's that guy that always has a little heart attack when their girls trip and fall, even when they don't get hurt.

Naturally, Fella slams on the breaks, and it's our turn to get honked and yelled at by other drivers. He asks her where on god's green Earth THAT came from. Suspect number one is my middle brother, because that is 100% something he'd say. That is, until I remember that I've heard it before as well.

See, Fella and I's closest friend is 75% Potawatomi, 25% Italian, and calls himself 'your friendly neighborhood homosexual'. He also declared himself baby girl's godfather when she was born...bless his heart. He and baby girl have always been best buds; there's no friendship quite like one of a little girl and her gay godfather. I'd heard him say that exact quote multiple times, so I tell Fella he's the culprit. Fella knows him just as well as I do, so he sighs like an old dog.

Suffice to say, best friend lost his babysitting privileges 'for good'...which lasted exactly one week.