Family Tradition

(this should be a button to Proud Mama Moments... )

Yesterday I instilled in Hayley a family tradition that I often give my mother grief about... you see, when we were growing up, and the smoke alarm went off, we did not exit the house, we did not declare a safe meeting space like the mailbox, we did not count heads and exit the house... we got a dishtowel, or a pillow, or maybe even a broom, and we fanned the detector until it went off.. Real safe practice there I assure you! I mean really, aren't smoke detectors supposed to denote "emergency! smoke! leave the area!" oh not, not in our house, it meant... "hurry, run and fan so it stops beeping!"

Yesterday, I did the same thing in our new home...only to realize, I've become my mother. My 2.8 year old now knows to run wave a dishcloth at the smoke detector when Mama's cured porkchops smoke up the kitchen.

Sometimes family tradition truimphs safety...what do you think???

Let's Go Farmin'!

In This Family...

We get really excited about cows...

 I mean, really excited...

 So much so, that we hang out windows...

 And watch them together...

These things they call cows... 

What Mom? You act like we've never seen cows before... 

Or actually, maybe we haven't seen them this up close and personal... 

But we like it! 

ALOT!

an update to the email progression

These are the next 2 emails in response to the one I posted here...

5 minutes ago, different sender: Mama typed in wrong date.The christmas party at boone's will be on sat, dec 4, same time, same place. Excuse her typing abilities.

2 minutes ago, original sender: ALSO, I FORGOT TO SAY IT IS $5.OO PER HEAD, HAVE CORRECT CHANGE PLEASE

That's right.. we may be your family, but we are not the bank...we don't give change, loans, or credit, so you better be on top of your game.

reason #5476809

as to why I love my big crazy Southern family. (the below is an exact replica of an email!)

WHAT; CUZ CHRISTMAS PARTY


WHEN; DEC 12TH-REGULAR TIMES

WHERE; BOONE’S BAR AND GRILL

MUSIC; SAME DJ, HE IS READY FOR US

BRING YOB, AND A DISH

only in South GA

would you pass a road sign that has a tractor shadow on it with "share the road" underneath it.

Clettus gets a Bath

If you aren't up to the times... be sure to check out the first two parts of this now three-part series....
where you can Meet Clettus and read Part Two.

Y'all, we are now on our third Clettus entry... if this keeps up, he's going to have to have his own tag of entries... and he's just a 'possum who was saved from the road.


We had dinner over at Mom & Dad's Sunday night and Clettus had to get out and "visit" with everyone...

He hissed at Lou... so we know he remembers he is wild...and also notes that dogs are not on his list of acceptable playmates (probably because his first introduction to the species was his meetings with Bo Bo and its not like he's just a little pup...)

Then Mischa took him to the sink to get his daily bath... usually given by Daddy, but since he was grilling the steaks (hello yummy goodness), Mischa took it over....

Clettus tried to escape the running water by running up Mischa's arm....

Then he tried the other arm because the left climb just wasn't cutting it....

Then he finished with a towel massage... and he's as clean as a .... 'possum?? can be!

cute little fella... even if its a little creepy when he hisses

Clettus

Last week I got a text from my mom, which of course, I can't find now that I need it... it showed a cardboard box with critters in it and said "know anybody who wants a opossom? or 8?"

To which I replied, no...and who has a box of opossoms?

To which she replied, your daddy saved them... the mama got killed crossing the road.

You know, because that's the way conversations about 'possums go...since its normal to have them in a box at your house and all...

So I'd like you to meet Clettus, spelling yet to be determined if that is correct or not.

Clettus is the only remaining possum baby... Mama prefers to call him Ratatouille (and yes I had to goodsearch that to spell it correctly) since he mostly resembles the mouse from Pixar.

Daddy took the original sibling set to school one day to show Mischa's class... Mischa told her class that the Mama got run over because she didn't look both ways before crossing the road... that's the good little teacher in her.

Evidently, the classroom experience was sensory overload to 6 of the babies because they stopped eating and didn't make it.... Clettus and one other baby possum did.... until Bo Bo (whom you remember from this story) decided they'd make good squeaky toys and took the box and all into the backyard to play... to which he was punished... and then did it again for good measure the next day.... leaving only Clettus behind.

So here is Clettus getting his meal...

He's still getting the hang of that whole milk from a syringe thing... so he gets a little messy...but he's a tiny little guy, so its allowed...

And here he is, post-meal, just chillin' with Big Dave...attempting to return to a sleeping position despite the flashing in his face from my camera...

This bonding relationship is not all together unusual for our family... all animals take to Daddy and he takes to them.... and I think this next picture shows that best of all... please disregard quality as it was taken with a cell phone... I received it by text message earlier this week with the words "Lord help us" (also not uncommon when Daddy and animals are involved together)...also ignore the ginormous piece of pizza in Daddy's hand...

do you see Clettus? I think their bonding is going well!

And for your enjoyment...

Since I don't have a picture to share from here... enjoy another one of Jo's songs....

Tidbits on Tuesday

So I missed the Not Me! Monday boat... so here's my hodgepodge of thoughts for the past few days...

Saturday as you know was Peanut Proud.... it also lended itself to be another day with another story of Grandma... now I'm sure that you are thinking that I pick on her a lot... but really, these are the stories that make her who she is in our family, and I'm just preserving those moments in full glory.. so, anyway, Saturday was Peanut Proud and Mom made Zilla a costume to be in the "Cutest Little Goober" contest as part of the festivities... Mom had to be at the square pretty much all day and I was bringing Hayley down from the lake just in time for the contest and Jo's show...so we were going to have to meet up and get Hayley changed... well, Grandma woke up with "the headache" so she wasn't sure if she was going up to the Square so Mom decided to leave Hayley's outfit in the house with Grandma since its literally 1 block from the Square so we could just change her there.... so I got to Grandma's and my cousin Courtney is standing in the driveway and says "She told me not to park in the driveway because she wanted to be able to get back in... she says she's going to the Square and she knows backroads to get her there" ... no lie people, I can see the square from her driveway...its literally RIGHT... THERE... now it does have a bit of an incline coming up from her house, but its got sidewalks and its RIGHT THERE, you don't even need to squint or use binoculars to see it. We proceed to park in the driveway anyway (we listen so well) and when I try the door..its locked... the door to the house that has the costume in it and its now just 5 minutes until 1... so I call Mom.... and she's like "Good Grief! Where did she go?" to which I had to tell her the square via backroads... and so instead of us, just walking in all cool and collected and getting her dressed and to the square...we ended up with 6 adults at Grandma's house to spend a total of 2 minutes changing the child's clothes. I mean... really... this is just the way we roll.

And no, I don't know what backroads would have gotten her closer to the square and I didn't ask her because I don't think I could have done it with a straight face... seriously, its RIGHT THERE!!!

In a Water Tower Town

That's my friend Jo there singin'... sorry that the sounds not great and I don't have the greatest video skills but I'm trying! I've got 3 other videos of her songs on my YouTube Channel so be sure and check them out if you like what you hear! You can find out more about Jo at www.myspace.com/joannasmithmusic and find her on Facebook as well!

Saturday was The Peanut Proud Celebration in our little ole town and Jo came back (along with one of our other local musicians, Kyle Everson (you can find him on facebook, too)) to play a show for the hometown crowd... if you don't know much about Peanut Proud, let's suffice it to say that its an all-day celebration of all things Peanut (which was developed as positive PR after the salmonella scare last year).

I noticed an interesting thing that made me think about legacies Saturday afternoon.... as I glanced through the crowd that had assembled to listen to Jo play... I saw the faces of many of my classmates in the crowd, standing there listening to one of our own, somebody who went somewhere and did something (hello signed contracts with Columbia Records and Sony Tree in Nashville)... but more than that, I watched Jo make eye contact with them throughout her show... and she smiled the same sincere smile she's always had when she's talking with someone she knows... and I thought "what a legacy"... I really think I could write a whole article on this, which may make me kind of creepy, I don't really know.. but just hang with me for a minute here.... you see, in school, Joanna was the one person you would have wanted to hate by high school standards - dated the quarterback, had an amazing voice, great Christian, valedictorian, pretty, got the leads in the school musicials, well-known - all of the things that make people, in most cases, hate-able by high school standards... but no one could hate Jo... because, she was real... and she was nice... and she was sincere... and she didn't care what clothes you had on or which classes you were in or any of the petty standards that anyone else who was in the popular crowd would have cared about in order to maintain their elite status... Jo just was.... and Saturday, you could see that in the faces of my classmates in the crowd... sure, there were a couple of faces who were from the "in crowd" but more than that I saw the faces of people who Jo was nice to in high school, people who weren't at the top of the social pyramid... and I saw them light up when Jo spoke to them, that she remembered them, recognized them... I saw people from the graduating classes before and after us standing in line just to say hello and get in a wave or a hug... y'all.. she's 24... look at that legacy.... look at the impact of what she was in high school and what she is now has had on the people in our small town. Its just... unprecendented... in my mind, to see legacy lived out so young.

We're proud to claim her as one of our own now that she's in Nashville making her way... but we were always proud to claim her when Early County was home too.

And that is my, borderline creepy possibly I don't know, thoughts on that...

Either way... she sure can put on a good show!

just for the record, according to grandma

We all know about how things don't always sound the same as they actually are...

... now... for the record...according to my grandma...

"she got a new car... a T P Cruise"


yes, ladies and gents (if there are any out there)... that's an actual quote.

And 20 points to the first one who can decifer this new type of car... excluding the owner and immediate relatives of the owner because that just wouldn't be fair if you already knew the story.

overpronunciation

A few of my favorite verbal slips...

Over-pronunciate - as in, enunciate, or actually form words properly and completely

Catery - as in category, but, without using the "ego" part that composes the middle of the word

Flustrated - as is so far past frustrated that I can't even pronounce the R anymore

Bee in Your Bonnet - (note, I have thought nothing of this phrase, but recently Mom turned over somebody's gigglebox when she used it in front of them) used to mean "got-to-get-it-done-right-here-right-now-this-way-I-am-telling-you-or-else" can be paired for more enjoyment with comparison of buzzes from the bee's in the bonnets... For example, sometime last year Mom called me and was telling me about some project her and Daddy had been talking about/supposed to have started and hadn't... so she told me that "I'd had a bee in my bonnet for the past few weeks, but then your Daddy got a bee in his bonnet, and its evidently louder than my bee because we now have to do this right now tonight." which was further paired with the statement issued to Daddy at some point during their bee war... "well, I can't hear you for the buzzing" ... seriously folks, that's how it's done around here.

Crutens - Let's suffice it to say this isn't southern at all, we call them Croutons, full use of all letters, and that's the way its meant to be... but this little slip was heard for the first time earlier this year and I'm still at a loss for where such a interpretation would come from.

Whop-y-jawed - no, I don't have any idea how to spell it and I'm not even sure that my attempt at phonics is corrected.. because hoook-eded on phone-ixs workeded for me (name that comedian)... but this term is used to say something is all out of wack... obviously.

And that's the round-up so far for Friday.

a ramblin' morning

This weekend was a pretty good one for us... Friday night Zill and I spent the night with Aunt Mischa and helped her with a shower she was co-hosting on Saturday morning... Zill loves her Aunt Mischa and its so much fun to watch them together... she even let Uncle T read her night-time book (Raindrop Plop) to her... it was super sweet..and probably the longest she's ever spent with Uncle T without pulling away... he's growing on her.

Saturday afternoon, Mama, Mischa and I hauled Hayley over to Wicksburg, AL to see our cousin Christi and her new store Two Peas in A Pod where Hayley got all dressed up and took her picture for some promos and advertising... she did pretty well for it to be her first "shoot" as we've never had her in a studio setting of any kind for staged photos... I've only seen two of the pictures and of course I'm partial, but they are great! I share that to share this... turns out my family is just as crazy as I thought they were...

As we were leaving Dothan towards Wicksburg Mischa said... "Isn't this where we broke into that subdivision with Mama Mary?" ... to which my mom pretty much went nuts "WHAT?!" ... and then we started laughing... because its true... we were in Dothan with grandma, it was close to Christmas time and someone had told her about this new subdivision and how beautiful and big the homes were in it... so we went there... and the gate was locked... so we waited on a car to come up and then followed them in... um, yea... and anyway, I had forgotten all about it and we evidently had never told Mama of our adventure in the forbidden subdivision...

fast foward 10 minutes.. We are getting close to Wicksburg, we've turned on the GPS because Mischa likes it better that way and it was the first time we'd been to the store... as we reach this veer in the road the GPS says to veer left, while I'm telling Mama just to go straight the email directions didn't say anything about veering... well, Mama decides that she wants to veer even though the GPS has already calcuated that we can take the next left and be at the store... so she turns into this flat-space grass driveway with the intention to turn around, you know, because its somebody's yard and all... then she sees that the driveway (more of a semi-driveway, it wasn't all worn down like they use it often) is flat over to the other road which was the left side of the veer... so Mama just drives through the yard... with the house less than 5 feet from the passenger side of the vehicle and the road about 3 carlengths away... I'm in the front seat with my face covered saying "I can't believe this..." and Mom is just cackling in the driver's seat... Mischa's in the back saying "you know, we're probably going to hit a hole or run over a water tank or something".. so as she's still laughing Mom turns onto the road at which point I hear from the backseat "MAMA! There is a man standing under that carport!" ... y'all, I'm not making this up... to which Mama says "Don't Make Eye Contact!!!!" and keeps laughing as she drives on...

oh my. you can't make this stuff up, it just happens with us

so as we're driving the remaining half-a-mile to the store, I look at Mama who is basically in hysterics and say "And you wonder where breaking into subdivisions comes from!" and we all cracked again!

Suffice it to say, nothing stays boring for long when we're all around.

snow musings

As I promised before... here are my hodge podge thoughts on snow.

I absolutely love the absurdity it brings to small towns in south Georgia... aka places that only see snow "stick" once every 30 years or so. I think its interesting, as I look through the hundreds of pictures posted by everyone who was in town on Friday, the "snow day," that there are tons of pictures from mid-morning...when the snow was falling and just barely sticking... not even close to half-an-inch ... that my friends, is because if that was all the snow we would have gotten that day it would still have been a "snow" day...and in the past 10 years that was enough to assure a small child's wonderment of seeing snow in real life... We don't expect snow here... we marvel at it... we pull out every random piece of winter clothing to piece together something that's suitable for snow... it'll probably involve some duck or hunting boots... I wouldn't be shocked to see some waders... everyone will have on a ball cap.. everyone except the age group from 15-23 who've been skiing with their youth group sometime in the past 5 years... most children in the 5-8 range will have on their rain boots that look like animal faces... children under 3 will look like the goodwill version of the micheline man...we'll all walk ridiculously slowly... that is if we get out, at all, ever.

If you're lucky you'll see an icicle tree... made, quite obviously, by a daddy who sticks a sprinkler in the top of a tree in the front yard because the freeze will make the whole tree covered in icicles in the morning... its quite the sight... although I've always regretting not seeing the daddy actually get that sprinkler up to the top of the tree.. you may even see a young man on a boogie board behind a four-wheeler or a golf-cart...that's just how we roll...

We will also sit in our houses and complain about how dangerous the roads are, how the country bumpkins who compose our neighborhood legitimately for the remainder of the year are going to end up in the ditches flyin' that fast... we'll listen to the Mayor on the local news talk about "sanding" the bridges... salting is not something we prepare for... we'll see rock salt on the steps of the post office, unless of course, the stores are out of rock salt since its general purpose in this area is for supplementing the homemade ice cream makings in the summer, then you'll see table salt on the steps... And we'll take 200 pictures before the snow really comes down and sticks. We'll make snowmen that have pinestraw and leaves sticking from them... because despite the fact that its the most snow in 30 years, its still not enough to warrant a completely clean snowman... or even a snowman that stand much more than 2 feet tall, if that...yards and driveways and cars will have vast wipes of confiscated snow for our attempted snowmen... there will be snowballs frozen in our freezer for the next two months.

We'll be in love with the snow the whole day. Then the next day, we'll look at what's left, at least this time since there was some left over, say to ourselves "how pretty" and stay inside one more day for good measure. Then come Monday, we'll all talk about how much fun it was but how glad we are that we don't have to deal with it everyday. Now that just wouldn't be any fun at all!

All In A Name

So as I mentioned yesterday or the day before, the nicknames for my girls (girls... I'm still getting used to the plurals!) have their own stories.... now, if you recall we have already had a revelation about nicknames as you can read all about here. But that post really has little to no bearing on my girls and their nicknames other than showing a previous family history of utilizing nicknames.

As supplemental evidence I will provide you with the childhood nicknames given to Mischa (Catfish and Moo Moo) and my own childhood nickname (Cottontop). Neither names were stretches given our Southwest Georgia raisin' .... Mischa called all cows Moo Moo and we lived on a farm so that one came pretty quick on from my grandparents (as best I recall)... when the same grandparents put in a pool when we were 4-5ish she earned her second nickname, Catfish, a name that Daddy's buddies still call her today... she could shimmy down and swim the bottom of the pool for the longest time, even when she was that little, just as one sees a catfish hug the mud of a pond... mine was simple enough, my hair was a white as cotton, and we lived on a farm, therefore, Cottontop.

But that's enough on that, let's talk about my girls and their nicknames...I was going to start with our newest nickname but then figured that wouldn't make as much sense since the new nickname is based on the philosophy of the first nickname... and all that jazz.

Anyway, here we go:

We found out we were having a girl around Easter 2008... because its no fun to already have your names picked out before you know the gender we didn't have a name ready by Easter Sunday to share with the family (that would be all three sides, both of mine and Michael's, who all eat lunch together at my Mom's house for Easter, its just what we do)... Michael, being the proverbial antagonist, decided to get creative and came up with a name on the spot...a name that was deeply seeded in his family history... it was honorary of both his great-grandmothers, and thus, befitting to be used... and he announced quite loudly (not that it would have to be all that loud since all my aunts were within 3 feet because our family also has no concept of personal space) that in honor of those great-grandmothers we would be naming our firstborn, Willie Arzilla .... silence (a whole 10 seconds or so, which is basically a record if you've ever been to a family gathering with us) ... and then Mom, creator of her own middle name, comes to the rescue... "We'll just call her Zilla, that will be cute" ... to which someone stated that sounded like Godzilla (a response we got often in the next month or so as people heard the nickname) but it was too late... the nickname was born. So the nickname continued well until Mothers Day when we announced her TRUE given name... but the nickname still stands... its used in emails and text messages and to talk about my firstborn over the phone and the like. Zilla.

Fast foward to this month and finding out our second child will be a girl... also, once again, we are nameless at this point in the game... while we're in the doctors office Michael decides that we'll tell everyone that we're naming her Maude.... to which I say absolutely not, even as a nickname, Maude is not acceptable for this child... I spent the remainder of that night and the next day with Mom... if you can't see where this is going see the above paragraph and the Middle Name story from earlier this week... she decides that since Zilla's nickname came from Michael's side, it would be necessary for baby 2 to have a nickname from our side... Hattie Mae was born in that instant of conversation, as Hattie is my mothers grandmother's name...and I know we had a great-great-aunt Mae on my dad's side.

So those are my two children's nicknames... neither of which will probably ever leave them... although Hattie Mae doesn't have quite the same roll as Zilla, so she may just get the short end of the nickname stick... if I could just figure out a given name for her before its too, too late.

the family way

Since I started sharing my "Southern" stories many of my family members who had given up on this blog because of my rather lengthy absences during the last year and half or so are making their way back to checking in... in honor of this, I will share the story I mentioned in my Southern Story which relates to my grandmother hating her middle name and thus giving none of her girls middle names.

Yes, she hates her middle name so much that not only is it the name in which no one dares say in front of her, but that when she bore her 4 children, all girls, she gave none, no not one, of them a middle name. They have the name they are called and their last name (now their maiden name). For the oldest three girls this fact was evidently accepted without question, because the only one with a story about it is my Mama. And this is why we love her.

As you well know, one of the main tasks of kindergarten is to learn to write your name on the nice thick lines that look like streets. When the time came for Mama to begin practicing her name she noticed something unusual. She only had 2 names... and all the other kids had 3 names! Severely disappointed in her lack of a third name she did what few kindergarteners think to do... she made one up. And not only did she make one up, she used it... on everything... on all her name writing papers... and we have them to prove it. Obviously the stress of having kidneys (another story for another day) and only having Channel 4 (also for another day) and riding in the back window (did I make this up or is this legit? I can't remember), and giving up the part of Dorothy so she could be a hula dancer in the school play (yes, that really is a full story in one line) ... either way, the stress of all these things, coupled with the fact that she had to take piano and couldn't take dance, empowered her to take the name matter under her own control. And that she did.

A Southern Experience

So this story was prompted by a visit by my aunt and cousin this weekend... its a part of our family history that adds to our... well.... uniqueness.... I would guess. It is probably not uniquely a Southern phenom, but since it comes from the Sweet Milk Grandma I'm gonna link it together with my Southern stories... because its just better that way.

So my Grandma doesn't have the best memory when it comes to details... part of this is because she's had two strokes (both relatively minor in the scale of strokes since they've left only memory lapses of past events, no current aftereffects) and part of this, we think is just her way.

A few years back we (my aunts, cousins, etc) got into a discussion over Grandma's last name... because her mail comes in about 3 different ways when it comes to the middle initial... some comes with A, some with L, some with T. We all know what the A stands for... its Alice.. her given middle name, which she despises so we don't even really talk about it. She actually despised it enough that none of her 4 daughters were given middle names... which will be a story for another day about my Mama and her middle name adventures in kindergarten. But I digress... so we (the cousins) began asking our mothers what the L and the T could stand for... T was for Teal which was Grandma's maiden name we thought... but then one of the aunts remembered that she used to use the L, not the T, and that the L was not for Lumpkin (my mothers and aunts maiden name, my grandpa's last name) but for Lewis, that alot of her family was Lewis-es. So we asked Grandma... and she told us that her mother had been married several times... she was a Lewis and a Teal and I actually think another name before it was all over. Scandalous I know! So my grandma remembers that the husband named Teal *note: my aunt says it can't be the Teal man, so maybe it was one of the others, anyway, one of them* raised her when she was little and gave her a doll (random detail to remember, but she does) and it was the only doll she had. So she used Teal as her name... but it turns out, after much digging by one of my cousins... that the Teal man wasn't her father and never adopted her either... so her actual maiden name is Lewis. And that my great-grandmother had been married/live-in with too many people for her (my grandmother) to actually remember which one was her biological father. A scandal I do say! (Grandma was born in 36)

Oh, but it gets much, much, much better.... so much better that it now bears the mark of permanent family history.. you see one of my aunts, gave one of my cousin her middle name based on Grandma's maiden name... but it turns out... it wasn't her maiden name at all!!

Southern Vocab

So let's have a talk about "sweet milk"...

When I was in high school, around the age of 16, my grandmother had some heart trouble that landed her with a pacemaker and she moved in with our family for about 4-6 weeks (I think) to rest and recouperate with proper supervision. When she moved back into her little apartment, I was the designated runner for pharmacy pickups and groceries and the like until she got to where she could drive again. The number one benefit of this is that I now will always remember my grandma's birthday since I had to spout it at every pharmacist in order to get her meds release. The other benefit is "sweet milk."

So one afternoon I went to the grocery store with a list of items..she lives alone so it was a relatively short list... I picked up everything on there without problem, because, hello, there is only one grocery store in our town so its not like the aisles are rearranged that often. I was all set until I saw "sweet milk" on the list... so I did what all good little granddaughters do... I inspected all the milk in the refrigerated section for some small bottle of "sweet milk"... 2%, 1%, Vitamin D, it was all there... but nothing with "sweet milk" on it... so I trapsed back over to where the condensed and dry milk was... nothing with "sweet milk"... hmmmm... so I did what all good little granddaughters do next, call their mothers...

me: "Mom, where is the sweet milk? I've looked with the condensed milk and the jugs of milk and I don't see anything labeled sweet milk and that's what Mama Mary wants!"
Mom: not even pretending not to laugh "you don't know what sweet milk is?"
me: "No, and I can't find it... where is it?"
Mom: "Its regular milk, whole milk"
me: "Well why didn't she call it that? Why did she call it sweet milk?"
Mom: "because thats what it is... sweet milk... that's what it was called when we were growing up"
me: "Well I've never heard of it.. that doens't make sense!"
Mom: in full-scale laughter "Well, I'm sorry, I didn't think about it being that"

yes, y'all, sweet milk is regular milk... but who knew? Not this generation of southern grandgirl..no ma'am, no ma'am

Southern Vocab

So obviously the vernacular of the folks I've spent my whole life around still makes me laugh out loud at the insanity. I mean, this stuff really comes out of people's mouths... on purpose, y'all, on purpose.

Some of my favorite one-liners (p.s. if you are a member of my family, your words may be included below, just be ready)

1. "I woke up with THE headache" that's right, its not a headache, its THE headache. got the difference? And THE headache can come back at anytime and still be THE headache, not another headache.

2. "So you mix cranola oil and what, now?" Ok...so maybe this one wasn't on purpose, but its still said. That, ladies, would be Canola Oil ... no R necessary but thanks for playing.

3. I went to Walmarts and got me some..." That's right...Walmarts... as in multiple marts of wall, obviously.. this also pertains to Kmarts... who'd like us all to be K-Smart, but we'd rather not, we'd rather be Kmarts.

and a really good story involving "sweet milk" but that's for another day.

southern vocab

A family favorite from my grandmother

"drunk in the bed"

Sample Situation: Grandma misses church, my Mother calls to check on her:

Mom: Just calling to check in on you, you weren't at church this morning
Gma: I woke up drunk in the bed and just couldn't get up
Mom: (in all seriousness) Did you go to bed drunk?
Gma: No, I just woke up and couldn't get my head to stop spinning, so I got back in the bed
Me: (in the background) so she means dizzy?
Mom: shhhh! so you are feeling better now?
Gma: Yeah, I don't feel as drunk anymore.

So in summary:

word/phrase: drunk in the bed

southern definition: the condition of waking up and exhibiting all the normal hangover signs without having any exposure to alcohol, combine with "the headache" and you're out of the picture for a good 48 hours