A Shot of Choklit is a (sometimes) daily dose of the three F's that go on in my life~~~Foolishness, Frippery and yes, Fuckery, with a few lucid thoughts sprinkled in

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The GodParent

When my best friend of 10 years (at the time) asked me to be her newborn son’s godmother, I jumped at the chance to finally be able to say, “That is my Godchild”. Fast forward to about 10 years later and I was then asked to also be his big sister’s godmother. I was honored!!! I mean wow!! She is smart, funny, adorable, smug, arrogant, and a bit clumsy…just like me!!! What were the odds?!?! And my godson, he loves me with a level of fierce protectiveness only matched by my own children. I love those two like they’re my own. I cry with them and for them, I hurt when they hurt, smile when they smile. You name it, I’ve done it.

I myself did not get a God-Mother until I was baptized at the age of 16, and she does not take her duties lightly. She has supported me when I needed it, chastised me when I get out-of-pocket and most importantly, released me when she felt there were some things I needed to learn on my own. So I had some great guidance when I got my own. What I was not prepared for was my Godson’s dad, completely and passionately hating that I was chosen for this challenging task. He felt that I could not carry out the task because I at the time I did not have a job. What?! I was confused as I don’t ever recall that being important to me as far as my own godmother was concerned. The original reason for Godparents was two people chosen to help ensure a child continues on their religious path should anything happen to their parents.  Well, somewhere along the way, this definition has been altered to suit the needs of the parents.  I thought I was there to love, support and nurture him, a part of a village of people that wanted nothing but the best for him. I was hurt and offended but I still took on the task. I follow someone on Twitter (I will not mention their name out of respect for their privacy), that has just taken on the enormous task of gaining custody of their Godchild.  This person went from single with no kids to having to register a child for school, creating space in their home, and working their schedule around the new addition in the houseshold all in the space of a week.  WOW!!! My hats off to them because they truly took the meaning and purpose of a Godparent to a whole new level.  I felt so overwhelmed with emotion at what they did, I provided them with my private number so the I could provide ANY help they needed.  I know people that feel the person they appointed as a Godparent is solely there for the purpose of providing a new pair of Jordans when they come out (I can’t make this stuff up, and trust me, some of you reading know such a person, or people).  

But is there such a thing as going too far, overstepping the boundaries of godparenting? How did my godmother know when to fall back? How did she know when I needed to learn something on my own? How did she do all the things she did without offending my mom or stepping on her toes? I decided to ask her.  Her answer: Prayer.  Sounds simple, right?  She states that sometimes when we think that we are helping, we are actually hurting.  And sometimes what God needs her to do, is not always what she wants to do.  But she says that after several incidents of dealing with us “her” way instead of according to God’s will, she decided that if the spirit did not lead her or God did not tell her to move, she wasn’t moving.  She has 5 of us, so I would imagine it got to be a bit much for her, but we are all still here and she has always been there for us at the right place and time.  I want to let this person know that.  Let them know that sometimes, it takes a higher power to handle certain situations.  This would be one of them.  My godmother is right, because I think of times when I didn’t know what to do with my godkids and just saying “Lord please tell me what to do” while trying not to blackout and tell their mom “I QUIT!!”.  There had to be a higher power at work because I look back and I don’t regret it at all.  Including them, I have a total of 7 kids.  Yeah, I think a higher power would be in perfect order.


Memorial Day Weekend in Miami

LACE FRONTS AND ILL FITTING TWO-PIECE BATHING SUITS UNITE!!!…its Memorial Day Weekend in Miami. As our local residents visit the hair store only to find that every pack of 10-12 in. Minky Yaki has been sold, I reflect on the days of yester…no, literally, yesterday, when the shelves were filled with promises of Nicki Minaj-ish wishes and Beyonce looking dreams. Those dreams have gone out the window much like all the two-piece bathing suits at Target (or for my baller-chicks, Old Navy). Ahh yes, this is the weekend where ho-shit and debauchery collide and become one big ball of fuckery and I, The Choklit One, have decided that it is my duty to provide tips on how to act accordingly while attending the going ons in these parts. First of all, ladies, while we understand that some of you have never been to Miami and have decided that this is the place to release your inner whore, please also understand that Miami is also the place where video cameras and camera phones abound. Please don’t allow you and your friends to become the motivation for some dude to start up his first amateur porno company <——Choklit PSA …..Wait, unless this was the original plan, oh, very well then, carry on. Also, did you know that if a lace front gets wet, it falls off? Ladies, try not to walk to close to the water, you know, near where all the cute guys are to get their attention. I’m from here and these guys play too damn much…you have a 75% chance of being thrown in or shot with a Super Soaker. Do yourself a favor and keep your lace front a safe distance from the shore, like maybe at Wet Willies, where your only fear would be to have a Call-A-Cab thrown in your face by the girl wearing the same bathing suit as you. (Old Navy stand up!!) Finally ladies, two-pieces are not for everyone and not everything that hangs out of said two-piece can be hidden with a sheer/terry cloth/cotton cover-up. Know your boundaries ladies and stay in your lane. I’m not small by a longshot, so I BET NOT NEVER put on a two piece ANYTHING!!!! Do you want to end up on Media Takeout or youknowyoudeadasswrong.com, HUH?!?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT FOR YOUR FAMILY?!?! No, I didn’t think so, unless again, this was the original plan.

Now on to the fellas. Sir, you do know that we know our people and we can hear it in your voice if you are from here. Why did you just tell that girl that you are from Georgia/New York/Philly? GTFOH!!! Next week, at the club when this same girl sees you, what will you say then, ASS!! Be your usual random self and remember there is someone for everybody, even you sir, with the mouth full of gold-teeth and the Chevy ridin on 24’s with the candy paint and whatever other hood shit you can cram into one vehicle. *cue entrance of chick with lace-front, gold-teeth and ill-fitting two piece*. Also fellas, beer goggles are not just an urban myth, they are real!! Be mad at no-one but yourself when that girl wakes up and realizes she slept with Quasimodo…wait…this was supposed to be FOR the guys. I meant to say don’t drink and drive/ride/screw…um, I mean do it (for the sole purpose of blaming it on the alcohol, if you must)…I mean…you know what, nevermind, just do the best you can. Lastly fellas, if you are actually from another state and in that other state, you have a steady girlfriend or wife, know that if you commit yourself to a weekend of debauchery, there is a strong possibility that you could also end up on Media Takeout and any other useless gossip sight you can think of. Who exactly are you upset with about your wife finding out and justifiably sleeping with her boyfriend in your absence and moving in with him and taking your George Foreman grill with her and….wait, where was I going with this? Oh yeah, try not to do anything that you can’t get out of with the help of a skilled public defender (because she will probably clean out your account as well) You Welcome!!


What just happened?!?!

On March 6, 2010, my mom had 3 strokes and then we discovered that she has been walking around with a blood vessel leaking in her brain…a ticking time bomb. I decided that when I moved back from Maryland to Miami and she was coming back as well, that I would limit how much I communicated with her. I would not entertain her apparent mental incapacity to deal with her oldest daughter. The black sheep, Ms. “Can’t Get Right”. I now know why. I now know why she sometimes forgot that she just told me she loved me and then turned around and advised me that maybe I was never worth anyone’s love. I now know why she can’t stop drinking no matter how many rehabs we have tried and how much counseling we have suggested. Or do I? Am I kind of glad that this was discovered as a possible reason for her behavior because let’s face it, who wants to walk around with verbal affirmation that your mom could give a shit about you much less about herself. I stood by her bedside as she told me how much she appreciated me for staying there with her and not leaving and then she promptly forgot even talking to me. She didn’t remember the transfer to a different hospital and thinks that it is the 6th of June. I want to be angry right now but we have been to this place before with my brother, an aneurysm survivor himself. I was not as involved with the process back then but I remember it was more important to think about him being okay than to be mad at him for leaving me here by myself with my mom. The militant midget in me wanted to yell about her asking for my sister and asking if my brother is coming when sometimes I think these two have made sure they have preserved themselves above all including my mom. I watched her face fall when I told her my sister was at work and that my brother was not sure if he could come because he was more concerned about being arrested at the airport for an outstanding warrant than getting here to be here with his mom. (Parking Lot…How fuckin great was your crime sir that you think the City of Miami Police Department, who will not even hire more officers to cover the high level of crime, will spare manpower to meet your ass at the airport?!?!?!) I of course did not tell her this, I just told her that they would be here soon. I found myself at the hospital praying and hoping that she would come through so that I can tell her how much we can be new. How we can fix whatever is wrong with our relationship. This is important for us. My brother has not been the same since his surgery because he can’t remember some simple things that took place before the surgery. Maybe my mom will not remember that I am not the daughter she wishes I was or that she can’t get through a day without alcohol. And then I realize how selfish this must all sound. That I am so busy looking for answers to explain this chink in our family armor, I have lost sight of the main issue…my mom is very sick and needs all 3 of us to be here for her. We are all we have and we can’t seem to get it together.