But the rest of my family is another story.
I swear, if I didn't birth my three children myself, I would be convinced they come from someone who lives in the back country.
The far north.
Or south, depending on where you live.
My children listen to Merle Haggard.
And George Strait.
With a little Jason Aldean thrown in from time to time.
Last week confirmed any
Just for kicks, we went to an equine expo. Its where extreme horse lovers go to hang out with other horse lovers.
Where they can buy horse stuff.
Talk horse talk.
Where they can "ooooo" and "ahhhhhh" at plaid shirts and cowboy boots.
Fun times, my friends. Fun times.
Girl child got to go for a pony ride. On a pony who had his dink out the entire time, but whatever.
We have our own horses at home.
Not little, pretend horses with small penises.
My boys wanted this hat.
My girl wanted these.
And showed her butt crack without a care in the world.
Husband got very excited about the big trucks.
Big trucks are $70,000.
I talked about our Percheron horses like I actually knew something while we were standing in front of this Percheron horse because I wanted to fit in.
I think it worked because two older ladies with knee high cowboy boots then asked a few questions.
And I answered.
Yep. Uh huh.
Knee high cowboy boots on senior citizens look funny.
I secretly dream of being a barrel racer wearing red sequined outfits and Laura Ingalls braids.
I want two of these.
I would name them "Squirt" and "Tiny".
We bought these for the girl child.
And then we listened to country music the entire way home.