I didn't have a chance!!!!

The first name I knew for my maternal grandmother was "Granny Grunt", that's how my father refered to her.

PDQ was the phrase we heard, as the warning to get moving, just prior to the second warning, which was the smack on our butts. For those who do not belong to the redneck club, PDQ means "pretty damn quick".

Our caution to blow our food prior to eating was " WATCH IT, that's hotter n' a two dollar pistol"

Upon forgetting to shut an exterior, or vehicular door, we were inevitably asked "is that door, like your ass, going to slam shut on it's own?"

If we were lagging, we were admonished to "get our HUSTLE on!"

To bring home an 80% meant we would surely be asked where the other 20% went!

And we were always just WAITING for our father to get home. I'm not sure why, but mom reminded us all the time!!!!!!

The first joke I learned went like this "Knock, Knock." "Who is there?" "Madame." "Madame who?" "My damn foot is caught in the door!"

A rock was dropped on my head, rendering me unconscious.

Animal droppings were called "smart berries"

My teeth were once entirely colored with chalk. (try whistling with THAT in your mouth!)

I was led to believe that chocolate milk came from dark brown cows.

Upon entering grade 7, I was shocked to learn that not everyone refered to their bra as an "over the shoulder boulder holder"!

I was made to swallow regular shots of cod liver oil. Though, because I am told it wasn't inflicted on me as often as I remember, I now believe cod liver oil administration should be classified as felony child abuse.

The first manner I learned, was to say "whoops" when I farted.

How could anyone deny that my quirky, weirdness is anything other than a product of my upbringing environment?