Christmas in Dixie

CID4-Reindeer Droppings and Snowman Turds

Chapter 4.....Reindeer Droppings and Snowman Turds

            Now you may not understand the southern style of living, but let's set one things straight, holidays are for family and food. I'm one to talk, and I love the good homemade goodies where the recipes were passed down from generation to generation.  My grandmother could make the best fudge in the whole northern part of Alabama. It was so good you gained five pounds from just staring at it. There were also some modern desserts the women would always put out for the family to try. They always had the weirdest names too. Like White Trash, or Puppy Chow. They dessert table was always stacked sky high with wonderful dishes, and you would at least try to taste a little bit of everything. I'm pretty sure the boys in my family always did. Besides the goodies the women spent hours in the kitchen cooking the main courses. Mouth watering ham, green beans, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, sometimes stuffing, and my favorite deviled eggs. My cousin Peter and I always argued about who got the last egg.

Scott and I were in line getting our food. I thought the guy was going to have a heart attack from all the food he was getting. His plate looked like a mountain, compared to my little plate. As we sat down again wherever we could find a seat Scott went and got our drinks. He was surprised to know that I was form the South, but I didn't like sweet tea. My family used to tease me and say my daddy was the milk man, and that's where I got the red tint in my hair and my taste for unsweet tea. They would always add that the milk man was a Yankee. I would always tease back saying that it made sense, since I scored really high on all of my exit exams in high school. I was just too smart. I have always been proud of my southern heritage, but I never had anything against the northern states. Even though I know that a lot of people think that the people from the South are as dumb as sticks, and go around wearing overalls and no shoes. Speaking of no shoes, my little nephew Henry came running up to me in just his socks.

"Henry don't run in your socks, you'll bust your head open," Karen yelled sitting down by Megan and Katie.

"Oh let him be a boy bruises and cuts are trophies," I heard John David yell from somewhere. If I had to guess it was down stairs in my father's man cave. Most of the men were down there watching some kind of sport.

"Aunt Acie look what Mamma, Carlie, and I made. I helped the most though," Henry said justifying that he had helped his mother more than his twin sister.

"What did you and Carlie help your mother make?" I asked as Scott had joined me and handed me my drink.

Henry's smile turned to a smirk of evil and I couldn't help but laugh. "These!!" He shouted showing me a cookie with a melt chocolate kiss melted on it, and a marshmallow dipped in chocolate.

"Well they look really good. What are they called?" I asked.

"Um...I forgot. I'll be right back!" Henry said running off.

I looked over at Scott. "Is your food good?" I asked.

Scott smiled. "Yes! I've never tasted such good cooking before," He stated.

"Really? Your mother never cooked?" I asked.

"Nope no one in my family could cook like this. Most of the stuff they fixed made you scared to eat it," he jests. I sure he was over exaggerating, but then again all the guys in my family could burn water.  We were laughing when Henry came running back.

"Aunt Aceie, they are called reindeer droppings and snowman turds," Henry stated proudly as Scott spit out part of his drink.

"Who told you that?" I asked him.

Henry smiled. "Pawpaw," he stated brightly. That sounded a lot like something my father would say. "Aunt Aceie, I think Scott needs a sippy cup because he spit he drink everywhere," he stated and then ran away again. That little monster had the funniest sense of humor I have ever seen.