Southern Daddies

"Honey, you know a lot about a lot, but you don't know shit about Southern daddies and their Southern daughters." - Straw Dogs

I watched that movie last week, and that one line really struck a chord in me. I've been thinking about it a lot ever since.

My Southern daddy taught me a lot of things.

He taught me some things hands-on.

My daddy taught me how to fish.

He taught me how to shoot a gun.

He taught me how to plant a garden.

He taught me some things by telling me.

He told me that I could be anything I wanted to be.

He told me that it's just as easy to love a rich man as a poor man. (I never did listen.....)

He told me to stand up for myself and not to let people walk all over me.

He taught me some things by his actions.

He taught me to never let a man treat me the way he treated my mama.

He taught me never to work a job that I hate and make my family miserable.

He taught me to not let my depression go undiagnosed & untreated....and make my family miserable.

He taught me to tell people that I love them - and show them - before it's too late and you are brought to your knees by grief and regret.

My Daddy is NOT a redneck. I've never really known how to describe my dad. He was raised on a farm in the country in the South. But he does not fit the redneck stereotype at all. He is always well-dressed and well-groomed. He doesn't drive a big truck or chew tobacco or fly a rebel flag.

Recently, my niece's husband was teasing my dad and calling him a redneck. My dad was not amused.

"I am not a redneck."

"Well what are you then?"

"I am a Southern Gentleman."

Good answer, Daddy.

And your daughter is a Hot Southern Mess.

{This was supposed to have been a scheduled post on Wednesday for PYHO, but obviously, I screwed up. I'm still linking up with Shell - go visit her for wonderful Pour Your Heart Out posts!}