WHEN IN ROME

Well, I guess it was inevitable. After living in this town for almost four years, I am starting to act like a local. This isn't necessarily a good thing, people. There have been two things that have stopped me in my tracks over the last 48 hours.

One, we got a new Biscuitville. That's right, another restaurant that sells biscuits and breakfast. We didn't have enough of those. Anyway, today was the grand opening. We about broke our necks getting there this morning. Sigh. We ordered combo number 5, also known as "heart attack on a plate", and other various artery clogging items. Jackson's order went something like this: 2 pancakes, 6 pieces of bacon, and 2 biscuits. Um, not a chance pal. I gave him props for trying, but come on. We did end up a butt load of bacon and biscuits though. It was actually really good. Then again, most things cooked with pure lard usually are. Anyway, at least I didn't order a "beeskit". It was just sad to me that I got so excited over a new restaurant that sells biscuits. I mean, really? Not a hip new coffee house or a Target. No ma'am, I was excited about Biscuitville.

My next moment of truth was yesterday. I was telling my mom that anytime the kids get candy, I have to hide it from Brad. I actually said (gosh even typing it makes me cringe), "Mom, I have to hide the candy due to it gettin gone." Shudder. Gettin gone? Lord, is it too late? Have I been here too long? Is the damage irreversable? If I start saying "ideal" instead of "idea" someone please come and get me. Take me far, far away from this town.

Well, I am off. Heading to the walmart to get me some overalls before they all get gone y'all. If Biscuitville didn't close at 2, I would stop by and get me a beeskit.