I'm back this week with a Southern Parenting Tale. As you know, I'm traveling a lot this summer and will be back on a regular posting schedule when my kids are in school. I've got lots to share so stay in touch.
Sometimes, you just have to be there.
In the moment.
As a writer, I can try to tell you a story, but no matter how hard I try to convey a story with written words, the story may not be the same as if it were told to you in person.
This particular story was told to me by my husband’s cousins. They witnessed this event firsthand, and I only saw their laughter and faces as they passed this story around among the family. I missed the actual incident.
From the look on their faces, and the tears coming out of their eyes, it had be what we call a “doozy” in the South.
We attended a family reunion earlier this summer.
|I took my shoepeg corn salad to the reunion. The recipe can be found in my recipe collection.|
My daughter is the youngest child in the bunch. The other children are all elementary-school-aged and older.
I guess it’s tough to be the youngest. You always want to be more grown-up than you are.
She and an older cousin were talking to my husband’s cousin’s husband. Got that? To make it simple, we’ll just call him John.
John, who is in his 50s, is an avid cycler, volunteer fireman, and all-around good guy. He’s never had his own children, but he has a kind and loving way about him that kids just like. They like to be around him.
John’s niece and my daughter had his full attention at this particular moment.
Who knows really what they were talking about, but my little one said something to him that caused him to ask her a question.
I’m sure he wondered how a 4-year-old could be so astute to know things about another country at her age.
He asked, “What do you know about China?”
She must have known he misunderstood because she innocently remarked, “No, I said girls have Vachinas.”
I think that conversation ended pretty quickly, and John got a little more education than he needed at this family reunion.
And I guess that is what I get for trying to teach my child the proper names for body parts.
Oops! But I’m sure it will be one for the storybooks for generations to come.