I only want one.

Nature vs. nurture?
It’s tough to say.
When you’re DNA is this f-ing crispy.
And as a young’n he kicked it in N.Y.
Your kid probably geeks out over trivial shit.
Like butterflies.
Or clouds.
Or glitter.
While my kid gets wide eyed.
When we discuss the merits of white jeans in winter.
Monochromatic palettes.
And well worn Nike’s in exclusive colorways.
Street smarts.
Not book smarts.
We took him out of school 2 years ago.
So he could stunt full time.
His diffusion line for Stella McCartney hits Target next month.
Apparently it’s Jack & Jill inspired.
I’ve only seen the sketches.
You probably heard him at Paris.
Moderating a panel with Lil Karl Lagerfeld.
And that dude who created Mad Men’s son.
Talking about the merits of social media.
And musing on what it means.
While your chump kid finger paints.
My kid paints our future.
To inspire a generation of designers.
Who made names for themselves.
Before any of these Rugrats were even born.
They say parents live vicariously through their seed.
I’d have to agree.
I google vicariously through him.
Because he has more steez than me.
While you’re in a Town.
Stuck in traffic.
Taking your worthless brat to soccer practice.
I’m speeding in a Hummer limo.
With my kin.
Uncle Jerry.
Popping bottles.
Making our way to the front row.
This really shouldn’t come as a shock.
I mean.
He was conceived.
With first class loving.
A mile high
Not in a drive-thru.
Like H.J's fast food kid.
My meal ticket.
My only son.
The truth.
The future.
My legacy.
Steezus Christ.
My only son.