Just call me Daddy.

Fatherhood is a bitch. The constant worrying that your kids are going to be alright. That they're making good choices God and the sacrifices. Of Time and money. And Jeez the...Wait ....Wait...Hold on.....I DON'T HAVE ANY KIDS!!!!!
What I do have is a needy mother and four broke ass younger siblings. Somehow I've become the patriarch of my immediate family. Everytime there is a problem, they all call me. I mean I could go back months...Hell, years. In general I'm a pretty generous person. I get it from my grandma, she was the kind of person who took other peoples problems on herself and did her best to try and fix them. She would give a stranger her last dollar. I loved my grandma but she died of heart attack at 62 with like $7 dollars int he bank . I aint going out like that. This month alone I've already been hit up by my mother to pay her phone bill.
One of my little sisters made the smart decision to leave the damn country with no ATM card, checks or any other way to access her money. Who you gonna call...DADDY.

My other little sister( just have the two) is supposed to be headed out on a trip to Mexico with her Church in a couple of weeks. Although her trip is paid for Mom has no money to give her...You know, food..A calling card...Post cards..Whatever. Who you gonna call....DADDY.

My younger brother. The brilliant collage graduate and wannabe screenwriter refuses to get a real job. He says he would rather be happy than to be able to pay his rent and ...I don't eat regularly. I think he's borderline bipolar and should be locked up before he hurts himself but that just me. Think Lynn from "Girlfriends" that's my brother. He is short on his rent this month. Who you gonna call....DADDY

My youngest brother(he's 13) wants to come here and spend a couple of weeks with me. I could probably handle that as long as he takes his medication. This lil dude has ADD and is hyper as hell when he's off his meds. Add that to the fact that he's already as tall as me and outweighs me by like fifty pounds. I mean I can't knock him out if he gets out of line. He needs new shoes...Who you gonna call....DADDY.

My mother told me that it's a blessing that I'm in a position to help them all the way that I am. I told her that I thought she stopped smoking crack. Man, I am so stressed out by all of this. I really feel like I have five kids. Five grown or damn near grown ass kids. For real while I would like to say I'm going to stop allowing them to stress me and my bank account, I know that I won't. Just call me Daddy.