Southern or nah

So I was born and raised in the south. I still live in the south but I don't think I fit the mold to what you think or maybe it's what true through and through southerners would say. I'll start with a list of ways that other than being born that I am a true grit. I am a biscuit lovin' girl. You can eat them for any meal. Breakfast with jam, dessert with honey, lunch or dinner as is or slap a summer tomato on that bad boy and ohhhh myyyyyy gahhhhh. My drink of choice is just like all you other southern babies out there- Sweet Tea! My mama (yea I call her mama...southern) has started drinking half and half and I am totally disgusted with her for that. No. Just no. I like my pearl but I also don't mind goin' mud boggin'. Pig Pickin' are the most delicious meals. My Mema was the absolute best cook. Yep, I had a mema. And a papa. My papa would pick me up from school and then go to a little rinky dink store and get the brown bag special. It would sit in his lap and he'd sip on it while I sat in the front seat unbuckled. Also, I knew when my folks yelled cops exactly what to do. I'd fall to the floor board because you know good and well, I wasn't supposed to be sitting up in that front seat. We'd eat normal lunches Monday-Saturday but on Sunday, we ate a dinner for lunch. My mema would cook up a storm and we'd all come. Even when I went to college, knowing good and well I couldn't come over for Sunday lunch, but I wanted to know what she had cookin' and I'd call her and then I'd get homesick. It was my Sunday routine. I can still dial that same phone number in my head. Okay, I'll shutup there bc I will cry. So I was raised baptist. We call it Southern Baptist. I don't know what the difference in b/t baptist and southern baptist but we were sure to say southern baptist. When I was 12, I was allowed to drive 4wheelers all by myself. It was the most fun. Do you think for a second I'd allow my kiddos to get on one?? Yea, I would. Their dad, who is not southern, would freak!!! I say y'all, reckon', yonder, and eat grits with butter or cheese...you come at me with sugar and I will slap it out of your hand. Sugar can go in anything and everything just like bacon grease but NOT in my grits. You can probably put bacon grease in my grits though...that doesn't sound bad. So now you're thinking, this girl IS southern. Right? Well, by "southern law", I don't check off all the boxes. For one, I don't hunt. Duck, deer, bird...nope not for me. Nor do I eat deer. Or ribs, or pork rinds, or anything on bone. Sitting in a stand in the wee hours of the morning and being totally silent...yea that ain't for me. And then when you kill your first, they wipe blood on your face. I'm telling you, I would gag and throw up. I can't even kill a roach or a spider without gagging. So obviously, murdering will never be my forte as I will vomit and there you have evidence and I'm away for life. Well, that kind of went in a different direction didn't it? Back to why I'm not as southern as southerners would say. I also don't eat okra or collard greens. Gag me. I don't go to the flea market. It's gross. I'm sorry, but it is. It's so dusty out there. Yea, I'll go mud boggin' and lay in the sand at the beach but no, I am not an outdoorsy, get dirty kind of gal. I don't smoke nor do I chew tobacco. I don't wear sweats or t shirts and I don't go to family reunions. I also won't go to walmart in my bedroom shoes OR pajamas....hahahha I totally would. But my hair would be fixed and I'd have make up. I'd totally confuse you. Now that I am writing this, I 'm thinking of more ways that I am southern. Like, I am looking out my front window, thinking I really want to sit on my porch as I watch the wind blow my neighbor's American Flag. Oh and no, I don't own a confederate flag. I'm not red yall. I said southern. Well, I guess this is what was on my mind this morning as I made my family biscuits for breakfast. Until next time, Bless your heart.