It Sho' Nuf Do!

It has recently come to my attention that I am a sixty five year old man from Alabama.

I find myself saying things like, “I have hankerin’ for cookies” and wearing mismatched sweat-socks and eating dinner at four thirty. I will admit, restaurants are not at all crowded at that hour and the wait staff are just starting their shifts so they almost never smell like feet, but I digress.

The question is; at what point will I begin to shout at small children for running through my yard and shooting the neighbors cats with the hose while wearing house shoes and drinking Jim Beam and lemonade from a Mason jar while the bug zapper hums steadily in the background and Ma fries up some okra and greens for supper?

Because that? It sounds like a hootenanny