High Heels and Dirty Dishes #11

When I first started writing this column, I am going to honest I really didn’t know where it is going to go. I figured that if people liked it, GOOD! If people didn’t like it, well they wouldn’t read it. The response has been wonderful, yet scary. Scary in the fact that I am afraid if someone follows me into a public bathroom they are going to wait and see what happens, I can’t poop on demand people. People are really wanting to know who Keisha and Janice are, and for more stories. You see on how open I am about something’s, there are a lot of things that I am not able to talk about. Ok. . . well there are something’s that I would love to tell you . . .but I value the relationship of the few friends that I have left in this world to ever cross that line. I try to keep it tasteful, and never go for the cheap shot. But if I ever do, you will hear it here first. Someone commented to me if I had any dignity, again it was a man. I had a lot of dignity before I pushed out my first child. It seems as though after that it went all out the window. I remember my uncle asking me after the birth how it was. REALLY. . . HOW IT WAS? Did he not realize that I looked like I had been to war. I simply told him it was a lot more fun going in than coming out. He shut his mouth after that, yet still finds humor in reminding me of that comment. I am going to find humor in punching Eve in the jugular. My life is not always humorous, sometimes it down right sucks like everyone else’s. I like to think that everyone else has stuff happen to them too. This week I was feeling a little down in the dumps, so I meant to take some vitamin C. Turns out I took a stool softener instead. Not a good thing to take 30 minutes before having to go to the church. My friend Sheila told me to consider it a “Little Diet” before the weekend. I know for a fact that I am now only one stomach flu away from my ideal weight. I don’t even remember buying stool softener, God how old am I? I will never make that mistake again. If it is not one thing it is the next. I started a Facebook site this week for my column, I was getting all of these friend’s requests from people that I didn’t know. Turns out I now have followers from all over the United States, and a few overseas. There are some really strange people out there though. At one point I was questioning if inmates were allowed to have in the internet in prison. I thank you for the readers for helping me keep it real. So here are some updates from my previous posts that I have been asked questions on. I ended up not being able to do the “Uff Da” Mud run with my friends. Let’s really be honest, there was no way in h e double hockey sticks that my body was ever going to make. I “Fortunately” developed a blood clot. No you read that right, I did say “Fortunately”. I am ok now, God knew that it wasn’t my time to die. My brothers still have not called my parent’s thanking them for giving birth to the best older sister. My mother is again talking to me about the “Old Lady” comment that I made. It took a couple of days, but she is over it. Even at the age of 36 having your mother mad at you is an awful feeling. However, I am a little disappointed that my mother continues to share stories with my teenager on how her mom went trick or treating for beer one year. Really mother??? We need to come to some type of understanding on what is said and what is not said. I won’t bust out the old lady comment, if you don’t bust out. . “When your mother . . . “ It was pretty genius though, trick or treating for beer? I know that it is going to be all over Pinterest next week. Last night my oldest child was beating the pulp out of her brother because he was teasing her about some boyfriend and making it Facebook official. I didn’t even interfere, even after he was on the ground for almost 10 minutes “Hurting”. I yelled from my room, “I did the same thing to Uncle Ryan after I seen him kiss Kim Lambert on the playground and he beat the crap out of me too”. I hate to pick sides, but as I get older I often wonder which one is going to take better care of me and put me in the nice nursing home. (Mom and Dad don’t worry, we have it all figured out. Meaning that Aric always gives the high priced Christmas gifts Lucas and I we figured that he would take care of you better, we promise that we will visit often). Love you Mom, Love you Dad. Until next week my friends, Allison Enge www.facebook.com/highheelsanddirtydishesbyallie