Out of her sincere love for me and my marriage, or guilt for getting me started on a home improvement project that was way out of my league, my friend Jennifer kept our kids Friday night so Trey and I could have a whole 24 hours alone.
On our way out for the afternoon, we dropped Dea off at work. He sweetly asked what we were going to do all night.
I told him we were going to meet up wit our crew and hit the clubs.
He started laughing so I, again, not knowing when to quit, kept on, "We gonna stay up all night rollin' from club to club in our tight suburban with the 16" rims and I'm gonna get my freak on."
Then Trey and Dea look at each other and burst out laughing.
"MaMelissa, do you know what 'get your freak on' means?"
"Totally. It means to dance. Duh."
Trey was still laughing.
"No. Not exactly. Mr. Trey, you can wait until I get out of the car to tell her what it means."
I think I'm asking for a ghetto slang dictionary for Christmas.