You might have married a redneck if…

By Amber • February 26th, 2010

Ok, so it’s been awhile. LOL! At any rate, I apparently married not only a redneck but a farmer. I am not (by any means) a city girl, but I’m really not a country girl either. So where does that leave me? Some where in between I suppose in typical suburbia… Where we have enclosed garages and a 4′x5′ or smaller garden in our fenced in back yard growing typical things we like to eat, mainly tomatoes and herbs. We may have a pet or two, possibly a dog or something real exotic like a gerbil. Haha. We do not plant 3 acres of food and call it a garden, nor do we use heavy equipment (such as a tractor) to take care of it. We most definitely do not purchase our own livestock to raise from infancy just for the fun of it.

I, however, married a redneck, and I do use the term lovingly! No problems with being a redneck in my book! Jeff Foxworthy made it quite popular to claim redneck status. My favorite, of course, is Larry the Cable Guy. Who doesn’t love him?? Anyway, I’m drifting from my original point as I tend to do so bear with me. So here I am, typical weekend of cleaning the house, catching up on laundry, etc., etc.. When I receive a phone call from my husband that he has decided to buy some hens and a rooster so that we may have farm fresh eggs. Wonderful… I inform him that’s fine as long as the little monsters are kept away from me and he collects the eggs AND does not EVER expect me to get in the same area as these creatures as I am perfectly happy with the hormone chalked full, overly antibiotic medicated, maltreated chicken’s eggs you find in your local grocers refrigerated section. He agrees. Fine.

Upon his arrival home he does not show up with laying hens and a rooster but a box of baby chickens. Can I just say they are adorable! I’m still not getting in a pen with them, nor are they running loose in my yard. He also has the cutest little baby bunny with him! Awww the kids will love it are my thoughts… His thoughts? Fatten it up and it will make a good dinner some day. Sorry, honey, but that’s out of the question. I’m not eating that, nor am I cooking it.

Next thing he gets out of the truck? A calf. Yes, you read that right. It’s a dairy calf. Not only a dairy calf but a male calf. What good is a male dairy calf? Not that I would have milked a heffer but what was the point in bringing home a bull? A baby bull at that! This little guy still has to be bottle fed. Again, he’s adorable but seriously? Tae feeding the calf. I’m sure ol’ Jeff Foxworthy has a ‘You might be a redneck’ joke out there for this that will encompass my entire situation. LOL!

The point of this little story? The next time my husband says, “Babe, I’m gonna go to the local auction with some friends.” My answer will be, “I don’t think so, hon. Not without me your not.”

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