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|Asani Dream Bennett| |Atlanta, GA| |24|
"Hiiiii, Mommy," Denim said, sticking half her head into the FaceTime call.
"Hey, my love," I said, setting my phone up while securing the lace band on my wig.
"You hair pretty," she said, admiring it. "I like yellow."
"Thank you, baby," I smiled.
"What y'all doing?" I asked, grabbing the wax stick.
"We was watching a movie, but Daddy and Deuce sleep," she said. "I'm playing Barbies now," she added.
I laughed. "What y'all do yesterday?" I asked, tapping the hot comb to see if it was hot enough.
"Uhhh, we went to the park with Daddy's friend and played with her son. It was so much fun," she smiled.
I scrunched my eyebrows up—I didn't know shit about that. "Who?"
"I don't know. It was a girl though," she shrugged.
"I'm glad y'all had fun," I said, trying not to sound irritated. "I'ma come get see yall when I'm done doing my hair."
I felt a brush on my foot—it was Rocky. I picked him up and put him in the camera.
"Rockyyy!" Denim said, grinning as he started to bark.
"He miss y'all, Tootie," I said, petting him.
"I miss my dog—" she started before the iPad hung up. Must've gone dead.
"Rocky, I'm finna whoop Kadeem's funky ass," I said, turning him to face me. He just barked, so I put him down.
"Don't shit in my apartment!" I yelled as he walked out the bathroom.
As I got done doing my hair, I took a couple videos, running my fingers through the curls, flipping it slow for the camera. The lace was giving scalp, the edges were laid, and the confidence was on ten.
"I look cute," I said, admiring myself in the front camera. I angled the phone again, lips poked, eyes low. "Now I'm finna go cuss this nigga out," I added with a little smirk, hitting record one more time before setting my phone down to clean up.
I wiped the counter off, put all my hair tools back in the drawer, and unplugged the hot comb. The smell of heat and hairspray still lingered in the air, but I didn't care.
I walked out of the bathroom into the living room where Rocky was posted up on my couch, tail wagging, chewing on his squeaky toy like he paid rent.
"I'm finna beat your ass—get off my couch!" I yelled.
He damn near jumped a foot in the air before leaping off and trotting over to his little dog bed in the corner with an attitude, like I embarrassed him.
