Poll:
If a cat has her kittens in an oven, does that make ’em biscuits?
(or)
Should we teach our son to say “mommy” or “momma”?
ElectricRocket's Journal
ElectricRocket Rocks It Electric
Poll:
If a cat has her kittens in an oven, does that make ’em biscuits?
(or)
Should we teach our son to say “mommy” or “momma”?
Mama.
Just goes to show, *I* ain’t a biscuit, if spelling has anything to say about it.
I need to reread my Samuel Clemmons.
Mama just looks nicer. Or at least that’s how we all spell it and I’m used to it.
What’s the answer to “ain’t it?” I think it’s “yes, it ain’t,” but I’m not sure.
I like “Mama”.
The South wins!
“Is it not? Yes, it is not.”
Hmm… it’s a bit of a dissonance in my mind’s ear, but it might just be right.
Southernisms I approve of:
“mamma”
“daddy”
“yes/no, ma’m”
“yes/no, sir”
“put the groceries up”
“y’all”
“all y’all”
“fixin”
Southernisms that will make me ship the boy North…
“might could”
“mash the button”
“save your Confederate money, boys, the South will rise again”
Have I told you the story of the first job I had at Panasonic Car Audio, which was to review through a draft of a radio manual that was written by a local?
Most of my time was spent crossing out “mash” and replacing it with “press.”
Which I thought was a shame, since it would’ve given the manual a wee bit of character. The downside would have been that the repair shop would have had a deluge of radios returned with the buttons in little, bitty pieces.
,i>The downside would have been that the repair shop would have had a deluge of radios returned with the buttons in little, bitty pieces.
Not so. I have been mashing buttons all my life and I haven’t lost one yet.
In fact, the first time I knew that was wrong was when, in my early twenties, I was visiting My Friend Tom in Illinois. We had gone to have dinner at his parents’ house and I had put something in the microwave and set the timer until it was time to turn it on. When that time came, I said to his mother, “Please mash that button.” She responded, “Do you press your potatoes?”
I might could do a lot of things that I used to could do. I can’t help myself. I come from people who keep the cold things cold on trips in a cooler kit.
The South might rise again, but it will be like when a bad hotdog rises.
One of my very favorite Southernisms is this affirmative answer: Bout as well. Can’t dance and it’s too wet to plow.
Bout as well. Can’t dance and it’s too wet to plow.
Huh??
‘Splain, please….
It’s actually a Southern baptist thing. Baptists, as you might know, don’t allow dancing. Or they didn’t used to. My great-granddaddy was the first dancing baptist in Laurens County, but that’s another story. And many, many Southerners are baptist.
Ergo, the answer to lots of questions like, “Do you want to go sit on a Coke crate in front of the filling station this afternoon?” can be “‘Bout as well, can’t dance and it’s too wet to plow.”
I’m explaining it poorly, but you get my drift. It’s a throwback. I find it hysterically funny, but then, I would.
Ha! That’s funny!
I’m going to start using it.
I would like to hear the story of your great-granddaddy and his “Footloose” ways.
My great-granddaddy, Lanier Hamilton Currie was a doctor and the preacher at Blue Water Baptist Church (where my family still gets buried even now). Hamp’s mother or grandmother was Susan Callahan (who I am not named after) of North Carolina, who was right off the boat from Ireland, and Hamp’s family was not Baptist, at least not before he moved to middle Georgia, having won land in the land lottery, so Hamp grew up dancing and apparently enjoying it.
When Blue Water Baptist Church formed, Hamp became the preacher (whether he was ordained or not I don’t know) and continued his dancing ways, apparently unaware that dancing is like SEX STANDING UP. There was some outcry in the community about it, being as it says right there in the Ten Commandments that thou shalt not dance, so Hamp stepped down and said he didn’t think he’d like to be part of any church that didn’t hold with dancing and he’d just tip on out, now.
The absence of a preacher and one who was a good speaker, at that, got their attention right quicklike, so they asked him to come back. He said he would, but he wasn’t stopping dancing, and he might even have a dance on the church grounds.
And that is why the Baptists in Laurens County dance.
And that is a piece of Currie Family Lore for you.
That’s a great story.
The only good Colosa Family Lore I have is that my great grandmother found my great-grandfather’s body stuffed in a garbage can on the docks of Brooklyn. My great-grandmother then took over part of the “business.” I don’t believe it, although nobody ever speaks of my great-grandfather.
Oh, my aunt was on the jury to prosecute a mob boss, and a few days before deliberation was to begin two gentlemen showed up on her door and told her something along the lines of “You sure gots two good lookin’ kids. It would be a shame if any’ting bad were to happen to ’em”.
A few days later, the mob boss was found innocent and the following day my aunt received a basket of goodies, including diamonds and Rolodex watches, with a note that read, “Thank you for doing good.”
I know that story is true.
Maybe I shouldn’t be posting this stuff on the web….
That’s a great story! I want a mob boss story. Alas, about all I could come up with is a Boss Hogg story.
Why be so conventional.
Teach the kid to call Stacy “Dude” and call you “G”.
-Skip
Re: Why be so conventional.
Should he pronounce “G” “jee” or “guh”?
Re: Why be so conventional.
Gee. Short for “G-Dog”. Short for “Gangster-Dog”. Short for “I am so with it that I use slang that not only is unflattering, but thoroughly inappropriate.”
-Skip
Re: Why be so conventional.
Suggestion duly noted.
In college, I had a friend named Jane who everyone called G (pronounced “guh”) for no reason whatsoever.
Re: Why be so conventional.
He could call her Mrs. Lucas. Then it would always be clear which kid was needing his mother.
Re: Why be so conventional.
My father has three brothers, and most of them have one son, some two. So, it’s always fun to shout “Hey Mr. Lucas!” at reunions and see a dozen heads snap to attention.
I imagine it would be just as fun to shout “hey, mama” down at the baby pool.
Re: Why be so conventional.
I called my mother Jan until other people started remarking on it.
One of my best friends in high school was a Mormon, and we thought it was terribly funny to put our heads in the library conference room door and say, “Elder, your bike’s been run over.”
Last week Daddy went with my brother to see the attorney. Every time the attorney said “Mr. Scarbrough,” Daddy perked up and then realized he was not the Mr. Scarbrough being addressed. Then Charlie, my brother, suggested that they move to a first name basis, which also was confusing, since they’re both Charles. Except to me and my siblings, and they’re Daddy and Charlie to us.
I say start with mommy depending oon what ever. He’s going to say whatever he wants to anyway and will probably switch around. I call my mom a whole list of things (some of them behind her back but thats another story) so it really doesnt matter. And mommy works because he’s 16 months old give or take so mommy fits him. Then again momma works too.