Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Just pretend we are sitting at Starbucks and I have consumed about three grandes and this post might make some sense

Couple weeks back Amanda wrote a post over yonder about calling hineys "bunny". Now I am very interested in Southern speak, both syntax and sayings, but I do declare, had never ever heard that one in a month of Sundays. Pronounced "Sundeys."

I am also very interested in accents. And I am here to testify that there is only a teenintsy bit difference between a North Carolina accent and a Texas accent. I found this out when I lived in London. Once on a little jaunt to Israel, I stalked this tourist group all over the Mount of Olives because I was sure they were from Texas and I was so homesick that I just inhaled their accents. They were sweet enough not to question why some tan, lonely girl with a backpack and a slightly desperate look in her eyes was shadowing their paid-for tour. I was convinced they were from Austin and can you believe they were from North Carolina?? I was so ashamed.

Y'all, I went to Israel for a week all by myself. How stupid was that?? I could have been blown up, or run off with an Israeli soldier named Shlomo, and no one would have known what became of me. You do things when you are 23 that you would later disown your own child for even considering.

While we are on the topic of Israel, when I was there, I went swimming in the Dead Sea, because you just have to do that. "Swimming" in the Dead Sea is one of the most amazing experiences, because the salt content is so high that you just float. It's like you are covered in invisible floaties - it is the coolest, oddest experience. It's kind of like being in a hammock, except the hammock is, you know, made of water. Israeli water. Holy water?

But I had a serious problem that day as I bobbed in my water hammock. I was traveling with only my Let's Go Israel book to keep me company, and obviously the Dead Sea section was written by a man. Wanna know how I know? Because if a woman had written it, surely she would have included some advice like this: "Now, keep in mind, the Dead Sea is eight times saltier than the ocean. So while your normal pre-beach protocol probably (hopefully) includes shaving from head to toe, trust us, DON'T DO THAT. Otherwise your whole body will feel like it is ON FIRE, and the saltiness of your tears will mix in with the saltiness of the sea, which would be very poetic if only you did not feel the urge to cuss in Hebrew as loudly as possible."

Oh, how I wish s/he had written that.

Not that I know how to cuss in Hebrew. I improvised.

Back to accents (another grande lowfat please, thanks.) I also discovered that Irish people who move to London develop an accent that sounds just like they are from Texas. Which I think says a lot about how much the Irish influenced the Texas accent, like the way we stress our R's while the rest of the South drops them. Except maybe in North Carolina they don't do that. Hmm. Does Lysa drop her Rs?

But where was I going with this? Oh yeah, Amanda, bunnies.

Being that I am interested in all this Southern talk and whathaveyou I asked my mom, who is from Deepest Eastest Texas, if she had ever heard this particular euphemism. She gave me a confused look, shook her head, and said, no, never.

Eva Rose overheard all this, and her little (bunny) ears perked up. "Bunny means hiney?" she asked. "Well, some people call it that, evidently," I told her. "Well I'M gonna call mine that! Ha ha! My bunny!! Ha ha! Hop hop hop! Ha ha!"

Which works for me because some kids might have gotten a couple of squirts of a little somethin somethin in their mouths recently for their new favorite word, butt, which I just deplore.

So today in the Home Depots, when Eva Rose announced loudly "Shep just kicked me in the bunny!" I reckon I was mighty obliged to Amanda, for learnin' me some new Southern-speak that might orta help my younguns in their home trainin'.

Bless her heart.

(Nonfat tall, please, make it a decaf.)


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