The shortest story goes something like a dark club, a kid free weekend, a bonus check and lots (and I do mean LOTS) of Redbull and (cheap) vodka.
The longer story includes a guy that I recognized from work, but didn’t know. A cousin who was supposed to be my consciences. And me going home with the boy I recognized from work.
The longest story, I’m going to spare you all the details and just give you the interesting tidbits.
He was my “uncle’s” nephew (we are NOT blood related, like AT ALL.). He was on a break from his wife. He has multiple kids by other women, few of which he sees. He is not even that good looking. I had gone almost two years without any booty (nookie, da goods, whatever.) I’d drank way too much, like WAY too much. I should have listened to my cousin. And I don’t remember much of the night Poppa’s conception. He said he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life. He lied. I don’t believe in needing a man’s support (because I’m stubborn and independent, but mostly stubborn.) I haven’t heard from him since I found out the sex of Poppa, which happened around Christmas 2009.
I was going to do it all story blog, make it seem was more interesting. I realized this does NOT need to be one of those kinds of posts. So it’s just the nitty gritty.