“Ice, Ice, Baby (a Slacker’s Guide, Holidays)”

“Unc over there drunk as hell. You better get him,” mama wasn’t playing games today. She pointed at Uncle Ernest — my uncle — my mama’s brother; beckoning him to gather their brother, who we just called Unc. One of five boys, the only survivor; then, over a decade and a half later came along my mama and her brother — twins — and, as always, unexpectedly — as grand-mama would always roll her eyes and kiss her teeth at that; “raw-doggin’ may…