Chile, Beyonce didn’t have time for the shenanigans. In true black mama form, she held on to Blue’s juice box so she wouldn’t spill anything on her good white suit. Because snacks be damned, she ain’t letting her child walk around looking a mess at no Grammy’s. Some would call this gauche or ratchet but when you have to sit your ass, your child’s ass and your husband’s ass in folding chairs for 132 hours listening to shit that you don’t really care about; you make it do what it do. And she did. Flawlessly and unbothered.
Black mamas pull out snacks at church, the hair salon, the library, honor roll assembly and the mall. Hell, I pulled out a whole ass corned beef sandwich for my little one when we went to see “Norbit” in 2007. She asked for her pickles and everything. Judge ya’ moms! She was full and that was $10 well-spent. Fuck your $20 M&M’s. I’d do it again! Packing snacks in your purse is like kissing your baby’s boo boo, sitting your son on your lap and giving him an Eskimo kiss or getting new bobos for your little girl’s hair. It just makes you feel good and loved.
Black mamas have held it down for us since day one and we are most appreciative. And ingenuity is bred from necessity.