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Guest Post: On Being a Southern Mom…

This post is by Celia Rivenbark a hilarius author I've recently fallen in love with. Since she is a Southerner, I asked for her thoughts on being a southern mama. Her response was an absolute hoot! Be warned, y'all may just find yourselves nodding in agreement. Thanks Celia for the wonderful guest post!

On Being a Southern Mom…

With apologies to that Foxworthy guy…

You Might Be A Southern Mom if…

You’ve ever spent $2,000 on a pageant dress for your 4-year-old but you wear Tweety Bird-embossed sweat suits from Walmart your own self.

You’ve ever watched that same precious 4-year-old win a pageant and hollered, “Well slap my ass and call me Sally!” loud enough to shatter the windows at the Ramada Conference Center.

You’ve ever described your irritated self as “W and PL.” That’s “wadded and pouty lipped” to the rest of the world. Alternately, if you’re preparing for a special night out, you will describe gorgeous self as “dipped and fluffed.”

You’ve ever described your young’uns in such vivid ways as “Buford Junior is just my eyeballs!” or “If Missy Sue was any more precious, I’d just have to cut off her toes one by one and keep them in an Altoids box just to look at ‘em.”

You’ve ever told the waitress at Ruby Tuesday’s that you’re going to the bathroom to change your baby girl’s diaper and “Don’t be touchin’ my shit while I’m gone.”

You’ve ever implored your young’uns not to play with the little boy who licks all the produce at supermarket, dismissing him with the withering initials: “N.O.K.D.” That’s “Not Our Kind, Dear.”

You’ve ever thought it would be worth the jail time to plunge a rusty butter knife into the heart of anybody who suggests your daughter isn’t good enough to make the cheerleading squad.

You’ve ever told your kid his hair was “all momixed up” from riding with the windows down.

You’ve ever told your kid that macaroni and cheese is, too, a vegetable or that if he uses barbecue as a verb ever again, he’s gonna get a whippin’.

You’ve ever invited the entire town to view your daughter and future son-in-law’s wedding shower gifts, artfully arranged on buffet tables in your living room (that weird formal room that’s normally only used only for the Christmas tree or piano practice.)

You’ve ever sent a Christmas card with your family dressed as Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus.

Yeah, a lot of mamas are crazier than a sprayed roach in the South but we’re nevah, evah dull!

Celia Rivenbark dishes essays about the old south, the new south, and everything in between in her fifth book You Can't Drink All Day If you Don't Start in the Mornin'. In addition to a collection of essays so funny you’ll shoot co’cola out of your nose, Celia gives readers a treasure trove of Southern recipes and the hilarious stories behind them.

For eight years Celia wrote for her hometown paper, the Wallace, NC Enterprise. She covered everything from weddings to funky fruit to dead bodies(sometimes all in the same day). But the big city beckoned so Celia packed her bags and headed to Wilmington, NC and the Morning Star. More weddings but eventually she achieved every Southern girl’s dream. She was paid to be a smart ass(a.k.a. write a humor column).

Along the way she found herself a husband(the sports writer, of course-- they are the cutest guys at the paper!), a beautiful baby daughter, and a gig as a stay-at-home mom. After her 3,000th diaper change, Celia starting writing a humor column for the Sun News in Myrtle Beach, SC. After all, what’s funnier than 3000 dirty diapers? Laugh along with Celia on her WOW Blog Tour-- dates are listed at www.wow-womenonwriting.com/blog.html. Visit Celia at www.celiarivenbark.com.

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3 comments:

Lynette said...

sounds like our kinda woman-----bet she would have been laughing her ass off the other day with us reading that silly cook book

Young Wife said...

Ha, ha! This post made me laugh. Barbecue as a verb...

Bobbi Janay @When did I go from a kid to a grown up? said...

This was great.