Pour Some Syrup On Me

Friday night on my way home from work, The Hubs called me to tell my our mutual friend J was over, and that they were about to start a fire in the fire pit. Now, fast forward 45 minutes. I walk in to them sitting on their arses in the living room playing Madden. If you know me, you know that I despise video games. I don't care if you play them, just don't play them when you are supposed to be spending time with me. J knows this and saw the rage in my eyes - probably looked something like this:

Anyway, J quickly realized they should stop and make the fire - notice how I say J and not my husband because he was the intoxicated version of himself where "just let me finish this" or "just one more" comes into play.

They stop, and we go and start the fire. We make small town gossip talk because that is what you do while drinking by a fire pit if you aren't listening to the drunken versions of Hank Williams Jr. being played on the guitar. After I slightly catch up to them, because really there is NO WAY I was getting on their level that quickly unless I chugged a bottle of wine in 20 minutes.

Anyway, The Hubs decides to call our neighbor who is having his syrup cooking. We decided to head over there.

Our neighbor's father is a Baptist preacher, we shall call him The Rev. We pull up with beer in hand because that's totally acceptable in front of a Baptist preacher, right? The Rev is very polite, his son, the neighbor, isn't back from the house yet, so we make small talk and I look around at the syrup instruments, if that is what you can call them. I start to walk up to the machine that is crushing the cane, where J has wandered up to, but I'm cautioned by The Rev & The Hubs that one of the men up there will more than likely make a vulgar statement if I walk up there alone. Then I wait for The Hubs to drink another beer and forget the guy is up there.

We finally walk up there and I get to witness sugar cane crushing, and even get in on the fun.

Man, I'm styling in this jacket. If I can get the video to send from my phone, you'll see the cane being crushed - not by me, but you can see it being crushed.

Anyway, the guy I was warned about strolls over to us, and whips out his vulgar statements. I literally stare at him for a moment, and walk to get another beer. I can't even repeat what was said, well, I can, but I just don't want to repeat that or the vulgar facial expression that went along with it. Let's just say, The Hubs was not happy, and set Mr. Vulgar straight. Mr. Vulgar then apologized profusely to me. That was actually really funny watching someone back pedal that fast!

We decide we are going to head out and take J back to his house. Then head home to re-start the fire and apparently listen to more Hank Williams Jr. - if I never heard another one of his songs it would be too soon.

I'm not sure what time we actually decided to go to bed, but I made sure to check the chicken coup for eggs before I went to bed. Totally bummed when there weren't any.

Ok, I got the video working. I will rarely do this, but I feel you guys aren't comprehending how country my life is now and the hilariousness that comes along with this. Today, you get a portion of my Friday night/Saturday morning snapchat. You're welcome - I can't figure out how to upload the video on to this post, and I'm too tired to care right now. Just cut and paste the link & I'll fix it later.

By the way, our neighbor asked me not to make them look "too country," and my response was, "I'm pretty sure y'all do that all on your own!"