Baba did not give advice. Advice is when someone says “follow your heart” and then expects you not to throw up on their shoes. Baba gave warnings. Very different species.
Baba said never trust a smiling corp. Baba said keep your drath where you can reach it. Baba said if somebody says “trust me,” run. Baba said learn how to cook, learn how to lie, and learn how to tell which one somebody needs. That woman could turn a grocery list into a survival doctrine.
People hear “Baba Said” and think it’s cute. Like, aww, the tiny goblin has motherly wisdom. No. Wrong. Put that thought back in the dumpster where you found it. Baba’s wisdom sounds like a threat because most useful wisdom does.
She didn’t sit me down and explain the world gently. She pointed a spoon at me like it was loaded and said things like “dead clever’s still dead,” which is extremely annoying because it’s hard to argue with and also possibly embroidered on my soul now.
The worst part is she was right. About corps. About luck. About debt. About keeping your people close. About crying after rent, but paying it first. About not stopping long enough for bad ideas to get organized. Which is rude, honestly.
A child should be allowed to grow up and discover her mother was wrong about at least seven major things. I got robbed. This song is not me saying “I love my mother,” because ew. What are we, emotionally hydrated? It’s me admitting I memorized every awful little lesson she gave me and now I hear her voice every time I’m about to do something stupid.
Do I still do the stupid thing? Obviously. But I hear her first. That counts as character growth if you grade generously.
