I sure could've used a possum hair sweater that night, I'll tell you.
Laurie went on to point out that even though she's also never met a southerner who ever claimed to have eaten a possum, she does know more than one who eats goats and squirrels. I asked her what her point was.
And Laurie is also mad at me this week because our next-door neighbor Justin Cloninger came over to tell her there are now bears living in our neighborhood. Justin went on to say that last week he'd come outside late one night and heard awful noises coming from the direction of our house. He then looked down toward the creek to see if I was there, but I wasn't. So he eased around toward our front yard in the general direction of where the noise was coming from.
Laurie was now all excited and asked him, "What in the world was it?"
Justin said, "It was your husband asleep, snoring in the driveway".
Laurie says I'm causing property values in the entire neighborhood to decline.
And what with it being Easter week and all, I had figured on giving all the northern Yankee persons the week off. I'd of done it too, if I hadn't read that AP story about an Easter production they had in my wife's home state of Pennsylvania that has stirred up quite a stink.
It seems that in the city of Glassport, Pa., on Saturday a week ago, the brethren at a local church there performed an Easter play at the Glassport Memorial Stadium. In this play, which reportedly was supposed to be about Jesus' crucifixion, the actors not only proclaimed, "There is no Easter bunny," but they also whipped an actor dressed up in an Easter Bunny suit. And if beating the Easter bunny in front of little children wasn't bad enough, the actors then broke the eggs meant for an Easter egg hunt.
I can hardly wait for the AP to report on these clowns' Christmas play this year. I just wonder if they'll simulate shooting Santa Claus out of the sky with a SAM missile, or just put some dynamite in the fireplace for him to land on.
Either way I expect it'll be a humdinger.
I must say I've so far been to some wonderful southern Easter services this year, up to and including the Bear Bryant of all Easter egg hunts the Presbyterian Church of Lowell had at Camryn's house.
Since Camryn is Kathleen's best friend, Kathleen was invited to go and being the exceptional guy I am, I gave Laurie the afternoon off and I took both children. And we had such a fine time. There was face-painting, pin the tail on the Easter rabbit, and barrels full of juice boxes on ice.
There were Easter cookies and cupcakes that were made like Easter baskets with green grass icing and little pipe cleaners for handles. And then, for the main event, there-spread all over Camryn's perfectly manicured yard-were so many Easter eggs that it looked like an Easter egg factory had busted.
The only Easter egg hunt I've been to that I was that fond of, was one we had when I was a pastor in Monroe. Some fool, who'll remain nameless here, caught a big green lizard behind the fellowship hall and put it in one of those big Legg's panty hose eggs and hid it with the rest.
When the children were turned loose, it didn't take long before an excited little boy found this big egg. The little fellow picked the egg up, held it way up high for a closer look, and then shook it a few times for good measure. Then he popped that egg open and almost wet his pants when that big dizzy lizard jumped out the egg and ran up one of his arms and came down the other.
Now that's an Easter hunt done the southern way. We'll leave the egg busting/bunny beatings up North and still celebrate the real meaning of Easter.
(W. S. "Bill" Melton is a Southern humorist, writer, motivational speaker and good ol' boy. He lives at Mt. Holly.)