(You might be a redneck if you actually HAVE a recliner in your gameroom.)
You also might be a redneck if you don't realize your husband did this and then let your 19-month old play in the gameroom the next morning while you get ready for work and come back five minutes later and notice the overwhelming smell of a bar and then see a toddler holding an upside down beer bottle, with the contents pouring down the front of his shorts.
And you might be a redneck if you holler a string of profanities so your husband, who is leisurely taking a shower, can hear, not thinking that the neighbors can also probably hear.
And you are DEFINITELY a redneck if you blog about all of it.
4 comments:
So to review: YOU might be a redneck if your husband leaves a half-drunk beer out in the gameroom. YOU might be a redneck if your husband let your kid play in said gameroom. YOU might be a redneck if you discover said kid and curse like a truck driver while your husband is in the shower. And YOU might be a redneck if you blog about this.
But the husband? I guess he's left wondering how he could have married such a redneck.
Yeah, but said husband Definitely IS a redneck if he's actually questioning his redneckedness (yep, I typed that word, I know, that makes ME a redneck now, deal) on a blog that basically throws him under said truck that wife is driving and cursing in the "normal truck driver way"...yeah, said husband is DEFINITELY a redneck, especially considering that said beer bottle was a natty light and was STILL COLD (NOT from the night before but actually from breakfast with his moonpie...wife didn't notice the chocolate goo on said baby's shorts or corners of mouth). That's all I'm sayin'...oh yeah, said husband is actually from Mississippi...nuff said.
I'm thinking maybe Tate is the Redneck. This is oh, too, funny. I'm pretty sure something of this sort has happened at our house, too.
All I want to know is if Tate swallowed any beer.
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