Blog Entries

  My boyfriend invited me to go with him to his sisters out of town wedding. I wanted to impress him and his family therefore, I had to find the perfect dress. After several shopping outings, I finally found a beautiful navy blue dress adorned in white trim. To further my drop-dead style for this festive occasion, I also found a matching purse along with gorgeous shoes. Upon trying on the dress in the dressing room, I discovered sincere discontent. I could not find the zipper anywhere, in the back or the front. I searched and searched and conclusively decided that this perfect dress which was now labeled an ‘almost’ perfect dress, did not have a zipper. Nevertheless, I tried the dress on over my head and shimmied it down. It was extremely difficult to get on that way, but once on, it looked fantastic. This dress was as hard to shimmy off as it was to shimmy on but I figured a little fashion pain would be worth the look. By the expression on my boyfriend’s face, I was correct, because I rocked this dress. I wore this ‘almost’ perfect dress to many affairs before realizing something very simple and common. The ‘almost’ perfect dress actually did have a zipper, but the zipper was a hidden zipper on the side of the dress. Who knew? Discovering the side zipper sure made it easier to get in and out of though! Yes, I admit that.

  My Aunt Kaye had two gray cats of which she loved madly and tenderly for many, many years. Kaye treated these cats as if they were her little babies and rarely did you not see her rubbing both of them on her lap. One day, my sister Judy passed her house and noticed a dead gray cat on the street. She thought Kaye’s cat must have been run over by a car and left to die. Judy being the kindhearted woman that she is decided to scrap the poor dead cat up off the road and bury it. She did not want Kaye to see her cat in this pitiful state because she knew how sad it would make her to see her beloved cat dead on the street and in front of her home. Therefore, Judy buried the poor cat in the back yard. After Judy’s cat burial, she went into the house to brace and inform Kaye of the tragic news. Judy walked sadly into her room and to her amazement, there sat Kaye in the chair rubbing her two gray purring babies. Judy could not believe her eyes as relief filled her soul. Judy never told Kaye of what she had done. Yes, she admits that.

 

  While walking the dog in the confinement of our beach condo hood, I ran into a lady with a cute little wiry haired dog. We struck up a conversation about our dogs, the weather and of people that we knew in general and had in common. I told her about a neighbor lady who lived near us who continually put her extremely yappy dog out on her back porch. I continued to tell her how all the neighbors talked and complained and that her dog was driving everyone within ear shot, disturbingly insane. This dog yapped early morning, day and into the late of night. She asked me where this person lived. Eagerly, I told her of which condo and gave an explicit detailed description of the direction. I continued with even further details about how the lady lived across the lake of the house that had the two orange chairs facing our side. She immediately stopped talking and looked at me in an exasperating expression. She sternly said, “That is where I live, you are talking about my condo.” Oh shit, no way. I exclaimed to her, “No, your dog is not the dog that yaps all the time, he is a different color. Your dog is so much cuter than the yappy dog. Did I say orange chairs, no I meant blue chairs. Oh no, did I say it was that condo, no the condo that I’m talking about is further down, way, way down.” I didn’t know what else to say or how to get out of this terribly embarrassing situation because she knew that I was straight up lying. I tried but could not talk fast enough to get out of this. She abruptly picked up her dog, turned around and strode away. She was so mad that I could see steam coming from her ears. I told some of the neighbors what had happened and they thanked me. They told me that I had done a good service for the other neighbors because there after, the lady stopped putting her dog out on the back porch. Occasionally when I would see her out walking her dog she would always turn around and go in the opposite direction of me. She soon moved away. Yes, I admit that.

 I picked up my son Colton early from his fifth-grade class in order to take him to a scheduled dentist appointment. After I had signed him out of school, I told him to hurry to the car so that we could beat the buses and other car-line traffic in order to not get caught behind it. We hurried to the car and Colton jumps into the very back of the large eight passenger Ford Expedition. I told him to fasten his seat belt, I looked behind and beside me and put the car in reverse. I backed up out of the parking space and the car started rolling up into the air. Not understanding why Colton or the back of the car was so high up in the air, I asked him if he was ok. The crushing sound of metal was unbearable and I silently hoped to myself that I had ran over a big trash can or something. I looked all around and could not figure out what had just happened. Right about that time, the school bell rang and kids, teachers and parents were everywhere. Excitedly, Colton yelled, “Mom, do you know that you just drove over a truck? We are sitting smack on top of a truck Mom!” What in the hell? I opened the door and hopped down out of the car and sure enough, there was a small truck underneath my car. The principal came over as did the owner of the truck. The owner was an elderly grandmother who was there volunteering and to also pick up her grandson. She was very kind and understanding. I got back in the car and rolled off of her wrecked truck. The front hood was completely smashed downward. Colton exclaimed how embarrassed he was seeing all the kids on the buses pointing and laughing. I told him that I totally understood his feelings. The following week, I volunteered at his school and ran into the nice elderly lady. She told me that she hoped that I had parked far from her car and to please, this time, to not run over her rental. Needless to say, Colton missed his dentist appointment. Yes, I admit that!

  Working out in the field one weekend, my husband Clay dug up a five-gallon bucket of dirt for a yard project he was working on. While shoveling the dirt, he soon discovered four small white eggs. He was not sure what kind of creatures lived within the eggs but suspected that they were snake eggs. He knew that poisonous snakes were born to a live birth and non-poisonous snakes were born in eggs, therefore at this point and as eggs, he wasn’t too afraid of them. After he finished digging up the dirt, Clay brought the eggs into the house for me and the kids to examine. I told my son Colton that this would be a great Show-and-Tell for his fourth-grade class and furthermore, a wonderful educational science project for the fourth graders to watch the eggs hatch. So off to school the following Monday morning, Colton takes the open bucket of dirt and eggs to his classroom. Upon walking into his class, a classmate asked him what was in the bucket. He replied to her that he was not sure but thought they were likely to be snake eggs. The frightened little girl immediately started screaming to the other kids in the class that Colton had brought in a bucket of snakes. The teacher, Mrs. Moore was deathly afraid of snakes and went berserk which caused all the fourth graders to react accordingly. That morning, Mrs. Moore’s class was a mad house with all the kids jumping on the top of their desk and running around screaming and yelling in fear. I was immediately called into the principal’s office to retrieve the bucket. Mrs. Moore was particularly angry and rightfully so as was the principal who gave me a stern tongue lashing. Yes, I should have been more responsible and placed the eggs in a closed container, but I did not think of that. In any case, I shamefully took the eggs back home and put them under the pool hut. After school and a few days later, Colton and I were observing the eggs and all of a sudden, the eggs started hatching one by one. The eggs hatched into four black King snakes. Immediately out of the shell, they began hissing with their scary tongues darting back and forth. Their slimy bodies started scurrying, slithering, crawling and climbing out of the bucket. The snakes were everywhere! Colton and I started screaming and ran into the house! Watching those snakes take their first breath was one of the most terrifying things I have ever witnessed. Soon after, we went back out to see the snakes but thankfully, they were no where to be found. I was most grateful that the snakes did not hatch in that manner in Colton’s classroom. Yes, I admit that.

  North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina is known as the shagging capital of the world. We are not talking about the Austin Powers type of shagging but the very popular shaggers couples dance. Two times a year, thousands of shaggers return to NMB for SOS. SOS or Society of Shaggers is two weeks of shagging, contest, socializing, one night stands, dancing, drinking, eating, playing on the beach and in general having a very good time. SOS would compare to the old people version of Jr./Sr. weekend of high school days. The bars are packed to the gill and it is extremely hard to maneuver around the ridiculous crowds. Mostly, I enjoy the line dances and try to dance to every song that is played by the DJ. As it would happen, I was in one of the bathroom stalls when I heard a line dance song begin playing over the bathroom speaker. Therefore, I hurriedly peed and wiped and dashed out in order to get out on the dance floor so as to not miss the line dance. During SOS, they usually have televisions set up everywhere in order for people to watch all the great shagging dancers and dances. I was in the midst of 50 or more line dancers and dancing my heart out. I noticed on one of the television sets that people were pointing and laughing at someone in my direction. I looked around but saw nothing of consequence so continued dancing. I was very familiar with this particular line dance and knew I was doing a great job. The stars were aligned as I was having a great hair day and my outfit was to die for. I had just enough alcohol to know that I looked fabulous out on the dance floor. Therefore, I was shaking what my Momma had given me with all my grace and strut. All of a sudden, a woman approached me on the dance floor. She told me to be still, to please stop dancing and to turn around facing away from her. I did as was told as she had a crazed expression upon her face. This lady could not stop laughing and giggling as she began touching me. She reached her hand into the top back of my jeans and pulled out a giant wad of wet toilet paper. Not only the large wad was hanging out of my jeans but attached to the wad was a long trail of toilet paper that had apparently been flying around with me on the dance floor. Yes, I admit that.

  During the Christmas vacation, my husband Clay and I threw a small Christmas gathering and invited family and friends along with their kids. We served at our shindig a variety of horsd’oeuvres and also adult liquid refreshments. We prepared two silver punch bowls, one for the adults and one for the children. The adult’s punch was Christmas red and was loaded with vodka with floating fruit. The children’s punch was Christmas green and was also floating with fruit but of course, without vodka. We explained to all the children that they were not allowed to consume the red punch and could only have the green punch of which they all understood. The party was great fun and everyone loved singing Christmas karaoke songs and getting into the Christmas spirit. The next day, I took my younger four-year-old son Colton to the preacher and his wife’s Christmas Open House party. The entire church must have been there as the rooms and home were packed with people. Their home was beautifully decorated with rooms and rooms full of food and drink. We were there approximately fifteen minutes when I heard Colton shout from the other room. “Hey Mom, which punch do the kids drink? I thought the red one was full of vodka.” Everyone stopped in their tracks and stared at me. After that little family enlightenment, we did not stay very long. Yes, I admit that.

  On an industrial morning while tidying up, my friend April sprayed an entire bottle of Frebreze all over her draperies, navy sofas and chairs. While in the process of spraying everything to smell amazing, she noticed that tiny white spots were beginning to appear, surface and accumulate on everything. April stopped spraying, scanned around the room and thought, “What the hell? White spots were everywhere!” She looked at the bottle in her hand and realized what she had been doing. April had accidentally sprayed a bottle of Clorox spray instead of Frebreze. After her damaging cleaning experience, she had to purchase new furniture, rugs and draperies. It was a very expensive blunder. Yes, she admits that.

  On a cool spring Saturday morning, our church entertained a Women of The Church Breakfast get together. Everyone was invited and encouraged to bring a favorite brunch dish and celebrate fellowship together. I made a delicious egg and cheese casserole and also an apple and cinnamon pizza. They came out of the oven beautiful and I was proud to walk in with such delicious looking food. Arriving in plenty of time, I didn’t want to make several trips therefore, I got out of the car, walked around to the other side and picked up both dishes. I tried to close the car door by pushing my hip against it. While leaning in with my hip, I got off balance and accidentally dropped the apple pizza face side down onto the parking lot. I quickly looked around to see if anyone saw what I had just done. I did not see anyone, so I put the egg casserole on the hood of the car while I picked up the apple pizza and tried to make it look presentable. It didn’t look all that bad for wear so I brushed off the tiny pieces of asphalt and small particles of dirt. I was going to put the apple pizza back in the car but instead decided to take it inside and throw it away in the trash can. So again, off we go carrying both  dishes inside with full hands. Once inside of the Fellowship hall, I placed them on the counter and quickly ran to the bathroom to wash my hands before putting them out on the table. I was going to come back and put the apple pizza in the trash but someone had placed both of my dishes on the food table. Oh dear, what should I do about this? I told one of the church ladies what had happened in the parking lot but she said to not worry about it and that the pizza looked fine and delicious. So, I left my dirty pizza out to serve the church ladies as I thought I had gotten all the dirt off of it. In any case, I served myself a piece of the pizza and after one bite put it down on my plate. OMG, it was horrible! The taste of grit while chewing hurt my teeth and tasted funny. For several years, I don’t think anyone ate any of my dishes. But who could blame them after that! Yes, I admit that.

  If you have ever been an ex-smoker, you will totally understand this next embarrassing moment. Now and again, I will smoke a couple of cigarettes even though I have been quit for a long time. I call it sneak smoking and apparently, I sneak smoke quite a bit. On one particular afternoon, my mother and sister in law were coming over for a visit. This happened to be one of my sneak smoking weekends so I thought I had plenty of time for a quick smoke before their arrival. I was sitting on my back porch puffing away when I heard their car drive up. OMG, I couldn’t let my mother in law know that I was smoking because she would fuss and moan about it for weeks. Therefore, I quickly put the cigarette out in a potted plant and hurriedly ran in to brush my teeth and spray on a few squirts of perfume in order to hide any evidence. After greeting them outside, we continued into the house and sat in the den which faces the back porch. We were talking and enjoying our visit when all of a sudden, the flower pot ignited into fire. Shit, my cigarette had started a fire with the plastic pot and dried flower. And of course, it happened in perfect view of where we were sitting. We all got up and ran out to put the fire out. Shit, so much for sneak smoking. Yes, I admit that.

  Another time I was sneak smoking on the side of the house. It is such a great little secret spot along the side corner of the house where I can be nicely hidden by the tall flower bushes. While enjoying my smoke in private, out of the blue, I heard this weird noise. It sounded like a bee hive noise but we do not have bee hives. What in the world was that sound and where was it coming from? I looked all around and finally looked up. Hovering above my head was a drone. My husband was spying on me with his damn drone. So much for privacy. Hey buddy, do you mind, this is a paparazzi free zone! Yes, I admit that.