That's what I'm saying--beat your kids.
(whooping)Yes, beat your kid, go ahead.
But do not, do not beat themthe way my mom used to beat us.
My mom had that single-motherdisgruntled ass-whupping.
If you don't knowwhat I'm talking about,
it's the ass-whupping that's onevery syllable of every word.
You know what I'm saying?
All right, let me break itdown for some of you
who don't knowwhat I'm talking about.
It's like this.
"Don't... you... ev... er...
do... that... a... gain."
But my mom went to school,
she knew how to usebig words if she was upset.
She'd be like,
"Get... to... your... room...
ex... po... den...ti... ous... ly.
Super... cali... fragil...istic... expi... ali... docious.
My sister'd be right behind her,antagonizing her.
♪ Um diddle-diddle,um diddle ay ♪
♪ Um diddle-diddle, um diddle ay ♪
We were traumatized.
We were the kids
in the English class,the teacher would say,
"Kids, can anybody tell us
how many syllablesare in 'expeditiously'?"
Dear, God. Six.
Hot water burn baby.
I never got my ass whupped
like my brothersand sisters did, though.
'Cause my mom, she grew up
during the Civil Rightsmovement,
and I knew if I could soundlike a Civil Rights leader
I could get outof an ass-whupping.
Mom would comewhup me out of bed.
(child voice):"Hold on, Mom. Hold on.
"Um, you can whupmy butt if you want to,
"but I want you to know...
(a la Martin Luther King Jr.):"that there will come a time...
"there will come a timewhen you will no longer need
"to whup a child's ass.
"There will come a timewhen G.I. Joe and Barbie
"can join hands ina world more spiritual
"singing 'Free my ass,free my ass.
Thank God, all mighty,you freed my ass.'"