Driving Miss Crazy.

I am a good southern belle.

Take yesterday for example. Yesterday was a picture of what a southern girl should do.

I spent my morning loading up the car with clothes I was taking to a kids consignment sale. This is so I can help with the "costalivin'" round here. Aren't I a good belle?

(*Another blog post will be dedicated to the fact that I never again will spend 44 hours of my life washing, ironing, labeling, pricing and hanging up clothes to be sold amongst 2000 other onesies with spit up on them. Nope. Never.)

Then I drove an hour and half out of town with my mother and my Granny. Because if you have to drive out of town at any time and for any reason, and you are a southern belle worth the salt on her watermelon, then you will take the trip with other female members of your family. Don't ask my why. I don't make the rules. I just follow them.

We then proceeded to eat lunch at the Potpourri House. We had chicken salad. Pimento cheese. And two jugs of sweet tea. Had you looked around the restaurant you might have seen Julia and Suzanne Sugarbaker. It was that southern.

After lunch we proceeded to go shoppin'. But lest you think we are from some place cold and dead like Minnesota - or some place even worse, like California - we DID NOT buy clothes for ourselves. Okay, that's a lie. We did. However, we did it the politely southern way. We bought for ourselves only after purchasing something for another woman in our family. See, it says a lot about a person if they go up to a cash register and place something on it that is for them and them only. It says EVEN MORE if they go to a cash register and place four items down and three of them are for someone else. God smiles on this. And He rewards your good deeds by letting you live in the south and promising in His Word that when He returns He will set up shop somewhere along the Mason Dixon.

In between our consignin' and our lunchin' and our shoppin' we chatted. In the eight hours we were together we covered these topics: babies, hair, boobs, chicken and dressing recipes, cleanliness, guitars, donuts, I.B.S., coffee, husbands, hairy arms, hairy chests, hairy faces, facial hair, Michelle, Melba, Meridith, Melinda and Lisa.

Whew. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

It was a great day, really. I watched and listened as my Granny drove my mother up a brick wall in regards to her driving, her hair and her attitude. And I relished in the fact that as much as my mom drives me crazy - she has someone doing the same thing to her. And it made me think of karma; and how we really don't give that karma thing enough credit.

And as I sat with my head back on the seat, pretending to be asleep, I overheard these things...

"Annette, you have tags all over the back of your neck. You need to work on those."

"I had a man-friend, once."

"I don't like donuts and they don't like me. I belch all day. And who wants that?"

"You can be selfish and hold a guitar and say 'look at me' all day long. But it don't mean people will look and it don't mean you're religious."

"Momma, you should see that new Tyler Perry movie that came out called 'I Can Beat Myself Up All By Myself' - it is so good."

And I remembered that sometimes being a good belle means never having to say - "uhhhhhh....it's not called that."