She Didn’t Tell Me You Were White…

The first time my older sister met my boyfriend, we were in our college apartment. He was sitting at our dining room table with his back towards her bedroom door, and she was on her way out to meet him. As she approached the table, she turned towards him, gave him a ‘shocked’ look and blurted out ‘Oh, she didn’t tell me you were white.’

It was pure gold.

We’re baaaaack!

As promised, the kid and I are back with the concluding part to our Interracial Ice Cream post. In that post, he weighed in on a few things he’s noticed about me, so I’m going to take this time and talk about a few things I’ve noticed about him.

Let’s do this!

Lotion. I carry lotion with me wherever I go, just in case I have any ash-like emergencies.

After I shower = Apply body lotion

After I wash my hands = Apply hand lotion

After I realize my ankles are dry = Apply lotion vaseline (for the cold, winter months)

He, on the other hand, doesn’t see the need for it. He only uses it after he shaves his face, and even then it’s only a dime size. That’s because to him, lotion is a luxury, not a necessity. Which completely blows my mind. What do you do when your elbows get ashy? Do your elbows get ashy at all?? Do you even know what ashy means?!?

Yes, thank you, I’m familiar with the term…

She isn’t kidding about her affinity for lotion though. I think I once saw her get lotion for her lotion. Seriously.

Outdoors. I love my dark chocolate skin.

Dark and lovely girls, come and get some!

So I’m sure you can understand that because I love it so much, I don’t want the sun’s rays to alter it anymore than necessary. That being said, you can take your outdoor activities and take a hike.

Seriously, go hiking without me. I’m not going outside between the hours of 9 am to 5 pm CST.

I just don’t see the appeal in purposely getting sweaty and uncomfortable outside in the hot sun. When I worked out this past summer (which was a feat in and of itself), I woke up early and ran outside around 7 each morning. If it was any later, that workout was scrapped for the day and I would settle for eating Nature Valley bars and watching Netflix. I’m that serious about being outside.

Meanwhile, this kid keeps telling me how much fun it would be to go camping or do some type of outdoor activity. Thanks, but no.

I know what y’all are thinking, and no, she’s not a vampire. I saw her eat a garlic bread stick last week so it’s all good.

Bare feet. I very rarely walk around my house without something on my feet. Whether it be my socks, my flippie floppies, or my house shoes, something is there. And that’s in the house.

We clash on this.

Take for instance a couple of months ago. We were attending a wedding, which meant that I actually had to slap on some makeup, squeeze into something other than sweatpants and slip on heels.

Dress + heels + outside (before 5) = Nope.

Don’t talk to me. Better yet, don’t even look at me. I’m literally drowning in my own sweat and my feet want to fall off. So as we’re walking in the parking lot back to the car after the reception, I’m of course complaining that my feet hurt, to which he replies “just take your shoes off.”


I’ll pass.

Don’t knock it til you try it! The way I see it, God gave you two perfectly good “shoes” from birth and you should put them to use when you can.

And that’s a wrap, blog readers! I hope you have enjoyed reading our posts as much as we enjoyed writing it. Now back to your regularly scheduled program.


3 thoughts on “She Didn’t Tell Me You Were White…

  1. I’m just now seeing this and I love it! You two are answering so many questions that I’ve always been afraid to ask for fear it would have been so rude that my own mother would’ve slapped me upside the head for being nosy. I love the beautiful differences in our culture…but mostly I love that we are all the same in God’s eyes. Your writing is absolutely wonderful!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s