Every Saturday morning began the same around my house. The blended aromas of pine-sol and bleach, Newport Stripes cigarette smoke and bacon fumes filled the air. The year is 1989 and back in the 80's sound systems were one of two things; virtually nonexistent, and too high for my mother’s blood and pocket book. However, this was one amenity that never kept me from experiencing an 808 beat drop. Keeping a radio in every room serving as the modern day amp, each speaker served as an alarm screaming “Cock-A-Doodle-Doo,” playing the greatest hits and keeping her in the groove as she cleaned and summoned me out of the bed to help her clean. “Get yo’ a__ up lil’ knuckled headed a__ boy. Now, momma loves you but, ‘If you don’t work, you don’t eat,’ so get up and get to cleaning something.” Today however, began quite the contrary. An incomplete routine bared nothing but my mother’s footsteps pacing the living room floor of our two bedroom apartment. That sound of her screaming my name for the first time that day, it never came. Now she’s standing right over me. I can hear her panting, as my cover is placed over my face. I quickly shut my eyes before she pulls back the sheets She pulls me out my bed and immediately begins to dress me. Wait a minute. No, kiss on the forehead? No bacon? No us singing melodies together, whether we were on key or not? Now while I appreciated the fact that I didn’t have to get out bed and clean things that already sparkled, I knew that the look on her face was very peculiar and something was definitely wrong. Nonetheless, she lets me know that everything is alright as my actions must have signaled to her that I knew something was wrong and noticeably strange about today. Throwing on my coat, she tells me that I should go in to the living room and figure out how to button up my own coat and that she was running outside to start up the car and she would be back. Assured in my mother’s confidence that all was well, I did exactly the opposite as any normal four-year-old would do, and went and positioned myself in front of the TV and began watching X-Men. In all grace, she snatches me up and carries me out to the two-door Ford Probe, and puts m