I never really thought of myself as a redneck before, but all the signs are there. I took both my kids shopping yesterday. To the liquor store. Why don't those carts have seats in them like at the grocery store?! So yeah, there I was, two grubby looking kids sitting in the cart, one holding a bottle of Kahlua, the other hugging a four pack of Guinness Draft. Redneck city.
Boy Terror has tin foil on his window. Doesn't that just scream "redneck" to you? But it's a necessary evil. The sunrise now is 5:05 am and sunset is 10:49 pm. It's dusk/dawn for another couple hours on either side of that. If the sun is shining, we must get out of bed, right?! I foolishly taught Girl Terror the same words my mother taught me. "The birdies are all in their little nests. Night-night, birdies. Time for me to go to my nest, too!" Hmmph. The damn birdies must take brief naps between 2 and 3 am, because other than that they are just twittering away.
I know I should love the sun. And I do. It is wonderful here in the summer. The days are long, I have tons of energy, and everyone is in a great mood. But still, if I am going to be a redneck, shouldn't I live....south? Who ever heard of redneck Inuit? If you have snow furniture sitting outside your igloo, are you a northern redneck? I haven't seen any fuzzy dice hanging from a dogsled yet, but I'm sure there must be an equivalent. True, a "fancy" restaurant here is one that has cloth napkins on the tables. "Snobby" wine is anything that doesn't come out of a box. And most of my neighbors scoff at meat surrounded by plastic wrap. Maybe I am closer to being a redneck than I thought!