[m i a o w] the cat

Found out today (the same day that M kindly dropped in his application), that we are going to be trailer trash. True! When the real estate agent called me, I shrieked down the phone,
“I’m going to be a Trailer Girl!”
She laughed, somewhat shrill. I’m sure she thinks we are deranged. Maybe we are. Not we, to be accurate, it actually came down to me. M can’t believe I’ll like living in a trailer, but he doesn’t know I’m going to change his name to Caleb, and I will be Bobbie-Sue, and we’ll take up smokin’ illegal tobaccy and spittin’ while we crinkle our eyes against the sky. I’ll say stuff like;
“CAY-LEB -when y’all gonna butcher up that pig and git me some cracklin’ and ribs? I ain’t ate no more than a messa beans in a month.”
And he’ll say stuff like…well, he probably won’t say much. He’ll just move that chunk of tobaccy to the other side of his jaw, crack his knuckles, pick them up from the ground and then slap me around the side of the head, as our five kids start a wailin’ from the inside of the TRAILER.