The Folta Factor

When telling a story to a friend or group, whether it be comical, scary, serious, whatever, sometimes it's best (in my opinion) to add a little "flare." Doesn't hurt anyone. Certainly nothing to be considered a lie. Just some fluff to make that story a bit more interesting. That's what southern girls do. Call it embellishing, exaggerating...doesn't matter. Add a little factor in here n there to help the story along. My beloved husband likes to call this "The Folta Factor."

Now, the majority of my close friends understand this concept and tend to just sit back and enjoy. Others have learned to chime in and relish the fun while throwing in a few exaggerations of their own...Makes for a good time.

So, here we go.

Story #1: My son ate Ravioli last night. He made a mess.

Story #2:

After a long, hard days work I rushed home to start dinner and a load of laundry, feed the kid, the dog, and wash leftover dishes. The dog needs to poop. Take baby out of highchair, chase dog around house. Baby is mad, crying and horizontally positioned under my right arm. Out we go. Dog chases after train going through backyard. Baby wants to get down and eat grass. Cell phone ringing and the faint sound of a rescue vehicle I'm sure is on the way to my house. Just remembered I left the stove heating an empty pan. Back inside. Baby in highchair with food! Dinner in progress...Ahh. Step in fresh poop. Turn around. Discover baby covered head to toe in orange chunky goo. I was frightened, yet intrigued. 13 minutes left on dinner, scooped up baby--threw in tub. Wait! Baby OUT! Must first kill invasion of ants in tub. Note: always a good idea to leave your dirty kid unattended in bathroom while searching for Raid. Returned to find dog eating child's face and child laughing. Back in tub. Orange water, orange walls, chunks clogging drain. Supermom unclogs and discards. All the while, baby contemplating adoption. Peripheral vision locates dog feasting on drain chunks. Bath finished and Vio la! An Orange stained Ooompa Loopma.