There are some sure signs you live in the South.
Take NASCAR, for example.
Then there's The War of Northern Aggression Against the Free and Independent Southern States.
Or grits. I just don't. get. grits.
Hairbows and smocking.
And this gem:
We're driving home from ballet tonight, and Amy is singing her new choir song. She's been listening to the CD done by the wonderful choir director, who happens to be very Southern. The short /e/ sound does not exist here, as is evidenced by Amy's translation:
"Mary and Joseph - - - They rode a donkey - - -
It was a long way - - - To Pet-the-lamb!"
That's one for the books!
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