Sweet Home Alabama . . .

Thing #117: The south is insidious.

I thought after more than a decade in Alabama, my family and I were relatively unscathed by the influence of the South. Sure the occasional 'ya'll' might escape our lips, but my dad still drinks unsweet tea, my mom talks like a Yankee, and I REFUSE to eat any part of a pig (except bacon) let alone EVERY part of a pig!

Sad but true, the south has finally reached us. I went outside tonight to find my dad and nephew shooting his newly acquired bb gun at empty playdo cans on the back deck. My husband and I came out and joined in the festivities. I'll point out when we came out, neither of my aforementioned relatives had been successful. My husband hit one of the containers on his first try, and I on my second.

Somewhere in the midst of all the fun, my nephew, dressed in his Alabama Crimson Tide shirt and matching baseball cap, said "Yep, this is what we do for fun here in Alabama." That's when it hit me . . . We are turning into rednecks. The next thing you know I'll be eating grits and saying fixin' and reckon . . .

The only way it could have been more southern is if they were beer cans, but being my nephew is underage and none of us drink, playdo cans were the next best thing.

The Chimp