“Is that okay to say these days?”

“Probably not. To be sure, ‘No.’ But they’re my kids, and I like mulatto best. Haha.”

****

Mulatto has a certain clarity of meaning beyond just the fact that they are the product of me and their mom. Don’t you agree? Yes, it means white and black parents. But it also conveys, in 2024, “You’re kinda barking up the wrong tree already, stupid.”

Sure, I admit this is a bit harsh. And as such, I have not been using it exclusively. But my wife and I’s two kids garner enough attention, or I should say, my wife and I’s two kids’ hair garners enough attention that I needed something “full Pete” to say in response to all comers. In other words, I needed a line. But mulatto wasn’t cuttin’ it.

Naturally, MLK’s “not by the color of their skin” line is accurate, but as everyone has seen, it is also terribly ineffective. At the least, it is tired.

In having and using a “line”, I also am arming the two kids with their own “line”. Cuz, despite my general optimism in life and even my new line’s particular contribution to that hope, the problem ain’t going away. So I have been wanting to come up with something worthy of my progeny, for my progeny. And I have.

Again, they’re mulattos. Through and through. That is a fact. But while that word is funny to me and folks who know me well, it is unintelligible to Ethiopians and taboo to Yankees.

Here’s my solution. It starts with the fact that “mixed” is kinda en vogue. So, picture with me, say, a Home Depot parking lot. On a Sunday. Got it? Heavy foot and vehicle traffic. Sunny blue sky. Wind that negates low-talk.

I have J- in the cart, An- is at the car, and Ag- is about to help An- into her door when a dude, older, and a mix between homeless and Colorado Native, says to his partner—wife or fellow bum—and loud enough for all to hear, “Oh those are two beautiful babies.”

I smiled and thanked him politely.

Then he randomly re-appeared and continued as if never having left the area—but he and his companion had left—“I have some mixed grand-babies and they are just the most beautiful kids. You are lucky to have them grand-babies.”

I informed him, good-heartedly, that they were my own children, to his shock, and then he doted some more before leaving.

Mixed? Hmm. Mixed.

Eureka!

Next time, here’s my response.

“Mixed? Oh, look kids! A purebred! In the flesh! It is a pleasure to know you. Good day, Sir.”

****

That is my new Full Pete “line” and I believe it accomplishes everything I want it too and probably a teensy bit more at no additional charge. It has bite, but is not record-stopping like mulatto. It is at least as memorable as “content of character”, if not more so. And most importantly, it can carry the fire of truth forward into future generations.

Mixed?

We have to stop the nonsense, folks! Who’s with me?

“Mixed? Oh, look kids! A purebred! In the flesh! It is a pleasure to know you. Good day, Sir.”