I was talking on the phone with my friend when I heard a mysterious knock at the door. I walked to the door and looked through the peephole and there was this weird looking guy there. I didnt know who he was. I say, “Yes.” He responds, “It’s me. It’s your brother.”
Rewind…
Ok, Ok, I forget you guys dont know this situation so I’ll give you a synopsis and if you dont know me personally you will probably write me cursing me out, but those who know me, know how I am.
About a year and a half ago out of the blue I got a phone call one warm afternoon. I was home with my baby Solomon because he wasnt feeling well. The voice on the other end was male and excited. He informed me that I was his biological father. I was like, oh yeah.
To my knowledge I already had a biological father who I hadnt seen since I was maybe 6 years old and I didnt care about him either so one more that’s been missing all my life made no difference to me. But my Pastor advised me to get a paternity test and I did and it turned out that he is my bio dad. So, it turns our he has four other kids that wanted to meet me. When I went down to Miami (my hometown) I met 3 of them, they’re half Puerto Rican and they’re cool.
Although I feel like I love them and I receive them as my natural brothers and sisters I dont feel a thing for my bio dad. He’s just another man off the street to me. I’m sorry but I cant help that. My Pastor has been more of a father to me than he has and I’ve only been under my Pastor’s covering for a couple of years.
Back to the regular program…
Ok, so this guy is at the door asking me to let him in, I’m wearing a t-shirt and nothing else, my boys are eating dinner and there’s crumbs and toys all over the floor, my dishes aren’t washed and I’m looking around like, dang, this is the wrong time. So I tell him that I can’t have company right now and he says, “This is your brother (I dont recognize this guy so he must be the one I didnt get to meet when I was in Miami) I want to see you, my Dad is out in the truck we’re on our way from Georgia and we didnt have your number.”
Soooo… what do you think I did?
I think something must be inheritantly wrong with me because I dont even feel bad. I called out my number to him and told him next time, give me some notice before showing up at my door. He left.
Ok, Ok, I feel a little bad but that’s how I am. I TOLD you I’m not nice. I TOLD you I have a attitude problem. I’m such a horrible person.
I have this thing that NO ONE comes to my house with out calling first. It is my PET PEEVE! I guess I have a few exceptions, like if you’ve known me for more than 4 years or if you’re related to me. These people know the truth. These people know that I am very unorganized and messy and I’m always wearing next to nothing around the house.
For real… The real reason I DO NOT ALLOW unexpected company is because I can hardly keep my house together. What kind of woman would ever admit that? I am so unorganized, so messy… I’ve met two women who were messy like me but funny thing is, they both got married and live normal lives, people still love them.
I see my mess as my obstacle to any man ever loving me. Come on, think about it. When you think of the ideal woman you’re thinking; she cooks, cleans, has a great personality,loves God, takes good care of the kids, is beautiful. Well, I think I have all of those things except for the cleaning part.
Well you may be thinking, “Why dont you TRY?” ~sigh~ I have tried. I have so many wonderful friends who have come over here and helped me. I remember right before my friend Shanna left town to go to the military, she helped me organize my whole house. She sorted clothes, gave me tips and cleaned up everything. I had never been so happy! She is gifted at that.
Two weeks later I was crying again.
It’s not like my house is NEVER clean. It just comes in spurts. And it never stays that way for long. Those who have known me for more than 4 years know me and my mess and are not above helping me pick it up.
You know… I wish I could be that ideal woman. I really do.
I’m sorry if you stop by and I dont answer the door. Now you know why.