The announcement came over the school PA.
Today’s story is from Brian Hague.
Eyes turned and focused on me. Run for the door? Slide under the desk? Is embarrassment fatal? I am now dead. It was my dad. He did it again!
My name is Brian. It’s been 23 years. I was 11. Monday morning. Fifth grade. Ms. Sullivan’s class. Two days before. Dad had taken my brothers and me to the Swap Meet. We trolled for trick stuff.
Something caught Dad’s eye, really his ear. D.J. Carlos, a Latin rapper in hip-hop gear. Selling songs right out of his van. The sign read,
“Custom Rap Songs. You write it, I rap it.”