The REAL Difference Between North and South
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So I went to the grocery store last night. No big deal, right? Except that I never go to the grocery store at night. It’s just too risky.
Risky in that I just might have forgotten to put on makeup that day.
Risky in that I might not have brushed my hair before I left the house or even looked in the mirror all day long for that matter.
Risky in that I might just have spilled dinner on my jeans and didn’t notice it until I got to the store.
Risky in that I might not realize that I’m wearing the girls’ high school sweatshirt that screams “Mom” all over it.
See what I mean? Risky.
So while I’m running through the store, grabbing things quickly and keeping my head down, I started to think about the time my sister from Dallas came to Chicago for Christmas. We needed to make a quick stop at the store, so she waited in the car while I ran in.
When I got back to the car my true Southern sis commented on how “bad” everyone looked. Apparently where she lives, no self-respecting housewife would be caught DEAD in the grocery store with no makeup, dirty jeans, and a high school sweatshirt.
As we were sitting in the car discussing this big, important, life-changing difference between the North and the South, a woman drifted out of the store wearing a sweat suit (matching, I might add) and tennis shoes. Without missing a beat, my sister said, “I mean, look at that woman. She could have at least put lipstick on before she went into the store.”
Heaven forbid the produce man see your naked lips.
So last night I really was thinking about my sister and how embarrassed she would have been to run into me at the store. I thought to myself that at least I didn’t look as bad as the woman I saw a couple of weeks ago . . . in the grocery store . . . with FOILS IN HER HAIR!!!
I think that might have been an all-time grocery store low.
Until, of course, tonight. When I’m standing in line behind a young dad with two adorable little girls who pointed at my sweatshirt and said, “Are you a WN mom?” And I suddenly recognize the guy as one of my husband’s former college students who has gorgeous children and an even more gorgeous wife. Who would probably never go to the grocery store dressed in dirty jeans and a sweatshirt. And who would always put on makeup and brush her hair before going out in public.
When I got home I told B what his student said to me about being a WN mom, and without missing a beat B said, “Then he probably isn’t a very good salesman. He should have asked you if you were a WN student.” Just one of the many reasons I love my husband.
But, really, there was just no mistaking me for a high school girl. She would have worn lipstick.
Risky in that I just might have forgotten to put on makeup that day.
Risky in that I might not have brushed my hair before I left the house or even looked in the mirror all day long for that matter.
Risky in that I might just have spilled dinner on my jeans and didn’t notice it until I got to the store.
Risky in that I might not realize that I’m wearing the girls’ high school sweatshirt that screams “Mom” all over it.
See what I mean? Risky.
So while I’m running through the store, grabbing things quickly and keeping my head down, I started to think about the time my sister from Dallas came to Chicago for Christmas. We needed to make a quick stop at the store, so she waited in the car while I ran in.
When I got back to the car my true Southern sis commented on how “bad” everyone looked. Apparently where she lives, no self-respecting housewife would be caught DEAD in the grocery store with no makeup, dirty jeans, and a high school sweatshirt.
As we were sitting in the car discussing this big, important, life-changing difference between the North and the South, a woman drifted out of the store wearing a sweat suit (matching, I might add) and tennis shoes. Without missing a beat, my sister said, “I mean, look at that woman. She could have at least put lipstick on before she went into the store.”
Heaven forbid the produce man see your naked lips.
So last night I really was thinking about my sister and how embarrassed she would have been to run into me at the store. I thought to myself that at least I didn’t look as bad as the woman I saw a couple of weeks ago . . . in the grocery store . . . with FOILS IN HER HAIR!!!
I think that might have been an all-time grocery store low.
Until, of course, tonight. When I’m standing in line behind a young dad with two adorable little girls who pointed at my sweatshirt and said, “Are you a WN mom?” And I suddenly recognize the guy as one of my husband’s former college students who has gorgeous children and an even more gorgeous wife. Who would probably never go to the grocery store dressed in dirty jeans and a sweatshirt. And who would always put on makeup and brush her hair before going out in public.
When I got home I told B what his student said to me about being a WN mom, and without missing a beat B said, “Then he probably isn’t a very good salesman. He should have asked you if you were a WN student.” Just one of the many reasons I love my husband.
But, really, there was just no mistaking me for a high school girl. She would have worn lipstick.
