It's All The Husband's Fault

Well, my mind has been on home lately.

Guess I best get these thoughts out of my system so I can move on.

Last night all three kids scattered and left the husband and me to ourselves. We went to our favorite little barbecue place and sat outside side-by-side at a picnic table eating and watching traffic go by. This is one thing I love about the south, I said indicating the enormous sandwich I was partially through, the barbecue. I love mustard-based barbecue. Who knew?

That and the tea, he said. I always told you there was no other place you could get this kind of tea. With that remark, we lifted our sweet teas and toasted one another to the weight we have both put on in the last five years. There's always a price to pay, you know.

I listened as he told me more stories of growing up in the Deep South (more south than where we are right now... apparently that's important to note). He always hated Midwestern winters and always stood a little straighter at the sight of a Confederate flag and always said he wanted to move home one day. It's just too bad that his idea of home and my idea of home are almost a thousand miles apart.

Oh well. Been there, done that.

So today, in my hometown, my mom sits with my dad while my brother and his wife visit. There's a festival taking place that turns that little bitty town into a massive crush of too many people. I don't miss that part so much, just the part where we would walk to town in the mid-to-late afternoon and buy fried foods and look at overpriced booths with no money in our pockets (that would've already been spent on funnel cakes).

I miss listening to my dad sing songs that make no sense and hearing my brother laugh and watching my mom putter around in the kitchen. Sheesh. I'm gonna have to put the brakes on this one. This is getting nowhere fast. But you do understand, if you've been around this virtual spot for very long, why I look forward to fifteen-hour trips home (takes longer the older we get) and why Saturdays are the absolute worst for me and why I have a label dedicated to homesickness.

Some things will never change.

And just to be clear, the title is a joke between the man and me. I knew what I was getting into the day I said I DO almost twenty years ago. If anything, blame it on the accent. That's what caught my attention. =)