A photograph of a black man holding a white baby has gone viral on social media. As viewers began to realize what was really happening in the snapshot, they couldn’t believe their eyes.
“So a lot of people like this picture. So I wanted to take a minute to tell the story,” Facebook user Cody Shugart captioned a snapshot of his son sitting in the lap of a black man. Shugart went on to identify the black man as Milton West, who was his childhood next door neighbor. Shugart had many a good memory with Milton West at the center.
Milton West was my childhood next door neighbor,” wrote Shugart. “I knew him as Mr. Chip. He retired from DOW chemical as an operator. He has always been there for me since I was two years old. Growing up without a father was always difficult for me. But the good lord surrounded me with great men, Mr.Chip was one of them.”
“He constantly preached the value of an education, taught me how to take care of a yard, he taught me to see people for who they are not what they look like, he taught me how to treat my mother like a saint and many other life lessons,” added Shugart. “His contributions to me becoming a good son, man, and father were huge. I am forever grateful for God putting him in my life.”
“Everyday, I read something negative and how race relations are worse than ever. I disagree, and I hope this is a positive loving message to many people. This is just one story in little ol Victoria, Texas. I’m sure there are millions of similar stories across the United States,” he concluded.
My Husband Refuses to Help with Our Crying Baby at Night, Puts on Headphones & Listens to Calming Music – I Taught Him a Lesson
Scarlett is at her wit’s end, balancing a demanding career and a teething baby while her husband, Dave, sleeps peacefully with noise-canceling headphones. When he dismisses her pleas for help, Scarlett hatches a cunning plan to make him experience her sleepless nights.
I need to vent about something.
My name’s Scarlett, and I’ve been married to Dave for 25 years. We’ve got three kids: a 12-year-old soccer fanatic, an 8-year-old aspiring astronaut, and our newest addition, Lily, who’s six months old.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my kids to bits, but balancing a demanding career and raising these little humans is no joke.
Dave and I used to be this power couple. But lately, he’s been avoiding his share of nighttime baby duty.
Picture this: I’m pacing the room with a screaming, teething baby at 2 a.m., while he’s blissfully asleep, noise-canceling headphones on, listening to some darn calming ocean waves or whatever. It’s infuriating!
So, here’s the setup. It was one of those nights. Lily was teething and inconsolable. I’d tried everything—rocking, feeding, singing lullabies. Nothing worked. Exhausted and at my wits’ end, I shook Dave awake.
“Dave, I need help. Lily’s been crying for hours,” I pleaded, my voice barely masking my frustration.
He groaned and pulled off his headphones. “Scarlett, I have to be up early. My job is demanding. Can’t you handle it?”
“Seriously, Dave?” I snapped, feeling the hot sting of tears in my eyes. “I’ve been handling it all night. I need some support here.”
He rolled his eyes and turned away. “I need my sleep. I can’t function at work if I’m exhausted.”
That was it. The tipping point. His words stung more than they should have. I felt like I was drowning, and he was just floating by, oblivious. Something had to change. I couldn’t keep feeling this undervalued and alone.
That’s when I hatched my plan.
I’m not proud of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I decided to modify his precious headphones, planting a hidden speaker controlled by my phone. Yeah, it was sneaky, but I was desperate for him to understand my struggle.
I activated the speaker. The sound of a baby crying filled his headphones. He shot up, confused and irritated.
“Scarlett, did you hear that?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“Hear what?” I replied, feigning ignorance.
He shook his head and stumbled over to Lily’s crib.
“Dave, I think you’re just stressed,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Maybe you should help with Lily more often. It might help you sleep better.”
He stared at me, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.
“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, but the doubt was there.
By the end of the week, Dave was a wreck.
He was snapping at the kids, his patience worn thin.
“Scarlett, I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t take this anymore. I’m hearing things, and I’m exhausted.”
I bit my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and satisfaction.
“Dave, we need to talk,” I said, my voice steady but filled with the weight of the past few nights.
He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “What is it? Just tell me.”
One peaceful night, after a particularly calm evening with Lily finally asleep, we crawled into bed, both of us utterly exhausted. Dave pulled me close, his arm wrapped around me.
“Scarlett,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude, “thank you.”
I smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “Thank you, Dave,” I whispered back. “For being my partner.”
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