A Southern Memory

Once upon a time I was having a shindig and was cooking special stuff so dinner wasn’t right away. There was this person over who had no self control with food. She decided she couldn’t wait and, I kid you not, stuck her fingers in the food to steal some.

So I smacked her with my wooden spoon.

This my friends is a perfectly normal Southern response. In fact, it was quite instinctive.

It worked. She suddenly had self control.

But she also ranted to her friend that what I’d done was abusive.

No, honey. Your momma never smacking you with a wooden spoon so that you end up with no self control in someone else’s kitchen. THAT was abuse. Also. You’re a grown damn woman. If you’d tried to claim assault that would have made better sense, but I have to tell you assault is an action a lot more serious than a single smack on your nasty hand with a wooden spoon.

This morning I remembered those people last year who faced serious criminal charges for doing similarly nasty shit. Because that kind of behavior is a health risk to others.

Moral of the story: don’t be afraid to smack your rude ass guest with a wooden spoon.

All the Pretty Horses: A redo

I was poking around at things today – slow Saturday as far as my projects are concerned – and found this thing I’d begun and didn’t finish. So I finished it.

It’s intentionally creepy. The original I just polished up from had a much worse version of singing. Soooo much worse. This one isn’t great, but trust me when I say the last one was worse.