High Heels and Dirty Dishes Column 6

I’m finally home, 6 days over 1,000 miles later we made it home last night about 10:30. After spending three days at the Wisconsin Dells I was extremely comfortable wearing a swimming suit. I was a little nervous but I feel if the 80 year old man next to me feels ok wearing a hammock, well I can bust out the swimming suit and not fuss with the one that had the "Mom" skirt attached. It was fun, exhausting, and a new experience. One night we took the kids to a fancy place to eat. Hannah ordered "Market Priced" crab legs. I for a brief moment felt like brother Aric and was all "Monied Up" and didn't ask the price. In our resort the next day Nolan ordered mini corn dogs and fries and it was over $13. I firmly said, "You better eat all of them and lick the ketchup because that was expensive". He put his head down and mumbled, "Hannah can order a $50 meal and you don't say a word, I order $13 corn dogs and the world ends". I smiled and said, "Yup now eat". No matter how much we attempted to please everyone on the trip, something always wasn’t good for one of the kids. We were either spending too much time focusing on Nolan and not enough on Hannah, or we liked Hannah more than we liked Nolan. I’m sorry but on more than one occasion on the trip, I didn’t want to claim either one or both of my kids. “Who are these kids and why are they yelling MOM”, kept on playing over and over in my head. On Monday we drove to Minneapolis, stayed downtown in a nice hotel and went to a Twins game. The kids walking into the hotel reminded me of when the Beverly Hillbillies first came to California. Hannah was trying to be all cool, while Nolan was running from one end to the next because his shoes slid on the marble floors. I had to remind myself that he is 10, but why is it that farting is so cool when you 10 and you don’t care where you are at cause its fun? Example: Hotel Elevator in the Hyatt Downtown. Next time I think that a Holiday Inn will be more our style, or a cattle barn for that matter. The next morning Hannah had this desire to go shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue, I don’t know what show she has been watching or magazine but in her head she was buying something there. So we went, and her eyes just about popped out of her head when she seen the prices. I didn’t say, “I told you so”, because that would have caused eye rolling and a complete inability to form words or look at me. I think that her ordering crab legs might have gone to her head. I hope that it didn’t because we have a few years before she is off the payroll. Her poor husband . . . "yes mom and dad I realize the apple didn't fall far from the tree", and Janice I know. . ."Tree/Nut". She was trying to be all cool in Saks, and it was at that moment that the Cajun food we had at The Dells decided to kick in for me. Anyone that says that love is the best feeling in the world has never been on floor 1 of Saks Fifth Avenue and realizing that in order to make it to the bathroom you need to go up 3 floors, walk around to the back corner of the store to where the clearance seasonal items are located to open up the door to walk into the bathroom and go. The best feeling in the world is actually making it to the bathroom with your dignity. I’m sorry Saks may be a nice place, but a place like that should have private bathrooms. I hate public restrooms, but at that moment I didn’t care. Yes my friends I was THAT person in Saks. You know, we have all encountered them before while going to the bathroom. It’s fun to go on vacation, try new foods, and see new things. But I am telling you there is no place like home, there is no place like my own bathroom, and there is nothing better than looking at your kids while yelling, “If you’re gonna fight and kill each other get outside cause I just shampooed the carpets”. I am counting down the days till school starts, and this year I am again going to not take a picture of my kids when they get on the bus. I will take a picture of myself smiling from ear to ear when they are off to school. The house will be quiet, no one to clean up after, and that last cookie will still be there when I want it, and maybe boring. But to be perfectly honest, I like boring. Until next week my friends Allison Enge highheelsanddirtydishes@yahoo.com