Being a Redneck...

Not having kids means I don't really qualify as a Redneck Mommy. But, since I want to share in the electric moment, I will blog about being a Redneck Daughter. Growing up so close to small town Canada means it counts. If you look closely you'll see that Fort Francis is really in Canada. I bet The Redneck Mommy doesn't even know about Fort Francis. It was about 7 blocks from my house.

You know you've grown-up a redneck when:

• Your imaginary childhood friend was Fonzie. Don't worry, according to my mom I always made him wait outside when I went to the bathroom. It explains so much.
  
• You went out trick or treating on Halloween and came home with a kitten in your bag.
  
• When you were about six your mom thought was a good idea (and in no way racist) to put brown eyeshadow all over your face and a diaper on your head so you could be Aunt Jemima. Seriously, I still can't believe it.
  
• When you visit your redneck relatives they make your husband bury a dead rabbit. The rabbit was killed by all the mosquitos.
• When there are more pictures of you naked in a sink than anything else.
• There are pictures of you about 3 years old riding on your dad's motorcycle and other pictures of you riding a huge fish.
  

There are plenty more where those came from, but they probably deserve their own posts. Mostly, I just hope that should I ever have kids, or adopt them, that I have the wisdom, sense of humor, sorry humour, and courage to be a Redneck Mommy.