Keeping the neighbors talkin'

Since moving here, we have always looked for ways to narrow the distance between being from the south and being from......well, here. You know, trying to pronounce the towns correctly, learning to say "sliding" instead of "sledding", adding the word "pop" instead of "Coke" to our vocabulary. Trying to embrace the cold (side note: The weather man said that today was going to "mild". High of 20. Oh, yes he did....he called 20 "mild") and snow. All of this, so that we don't seem/feel like outsiders.

We had a golden opportunity last night to show that southern or not.......we are just like everyone else. Let me set the scene. Can you guess what it begins with.....snow, of course. It snowed all day yesterday. So, snow was covering everything. We had just finished dinner and I had Sam in my arms, heading upstairs for night-night, when the doorbell rang.

Insert prolonged pause and everyone looking at each other.

Our doorbell rang. Who in the world would be ringing OUR doorbell? Quick head count....Maddie upstairs, Sam in my arms, Wade beside me.....yep everyone accounted for.

I opened the door (fumbling with the lock since we don't open the front door very often) to sounds of Christmas music. Oh, it was wonderful. Christmas Carolers. I teared up listening to the sweet voices of the kids. Sam was "juking" (another side note: Sam calls when you dance "breaking it down", when you sing and dance with jerking movements it's called "juking".....don't ask, I don't know) in my arms, Wade was smiling beside me. Finally, a chance to prove to the neighborhood that we are just like any other family. I called over my shoulder for Maddie to come and listen (she had headed up the stairs just moments before the door bell rang).

As the caroling continued, I saw the eyes of a person in the back row get unnaturally large. Then, another person's eyes followed suit. With two strange people staring bug eyed into my house, I had to turn and look at what had caught their attention.

Sigh.

There was my daughter.

At the top of the stairs.

She was missing something.....anyone care to take a guess at what she was missing?

Yep, her clothes.

Sigh.

So, instead of having a moment seeming like any other family enjoying the sounds of the season, we were a family with one boy "juking", which could easily be misinterpreted as a seizure and with another child streaking. Oh yes, defiantly what we want the neighbors to think of us.

I am fairly sure that we will be referred to now not only as that "southern family," but also the family with the strange kids. Wouldn't surprise me one bit if we became the talk around the kitchen tables once more.

That's what I get when I think it is only my accent that makes me stand out. Now, it is my accent, my son with the jerking movements, and my exhibitionist daughter.

Sigh.