It’s about time I explain the title of this here blog.  Basically, when I was younger, my entire family was at Six Flags and we saw two adorable biracial kids with their black dad, looking as though their dog had just died.  Two kids! At Six Flags! Sad! And it didn’t look like temporary “you didn’t get me a frozen lemonade” sadness, it looked like “you’re my black dad and I don’t even want to spend time with you because mommy is our primary caregiver” sadness.  Like they were legit despondent that they had to spend a day with their black dad.  That experience led to a meme within our family called My Black Dad.

It’s pretty much a (humorous, I hope) way of pinning anything that’s going wrong in your life on your black dad.

Hair won’t hold a blow-out? Blame my black dad!

Car won’t start? It’s my black dad’s fault!

Drank too much last night? It’s because of my black dad!

Forgot to record The Bachelorette last night?  My black dad is the one to blame!

You see?

So this here blog is pretty much my ode to my own black dad and our gchat conversations I enjoy so much.