I'm a #4.

NOTE:  All of the following is the author's opinion and sometimes overexaggerated truth.  And meant purely for your own entertainment.  Don't be offended.  Especially if you are a Redneck.

Lately I've discovered that we don't really fit in around here.

I am not a city girl.  But I'm not exactly your typical raised-on-a-farm girl either.  And I don't think I'm a Redneck.  Not totally anyway.  I really like being outside.  I don't mind getting dirty.  I like to play in the dirt, go camping, get sweaty, play football, cut the grass, etc, etc.  But I've never done anything like birth a cow or slop a pig or sheer a sheep.  Not that I'm opposed to those things.  Just never done it.

Where we live, I'm discovering 3 categories of people.

#1  Born and raised Spencer Countians.  Which usually means they have had a little bit, if not a lot, of that farm raisin' I was talking about.  They also all root for the Kentucky Wildcats, hate the Louisville Cardinals, take offense if you assume they are from the city and can spot an outsider from a mile away.

#2  City transplants.  People from Louisville that have decided they don't really want to live in the city, but are still just city folks that now have a commute.  They may have bought a tractor or a boat to try to fit in, but that Louisville Cardinals sticker on the back of their fancy SUV gave them away.

#3  Rednecks.  Sitting on your porch in a lawn chair (or your couch), trash in your yard, yelling at your kids, truck up on blocks, stealing the neighbor's cable, cigarette smoking rednecks.  Sometimes with a touch of #1 added in.  Which means there may be a tractor parked next to that 1983 Chevy truck in your front yard that's up on blocks.  (Actually a whole other sub-category referred to as Hillbillies.  A farm-influenced Redneck.)

Yesterday, while on a visit to a nearby park with the boys, we walked down to the creek where I realized quickly we were surrounded by Rednecks.  Except these Rednecks had brought their bare-bellies and cut-off jeans to the creek to sit in their lawn chairs.  Right smack in the middle of the creek.  (I really, really wish I had a picture.)  And I'm pretty sure part of their family was also sitting at the picnic tables folding their laundry.  I'm just hoping they hadn't done it in the creek.  Either way, I gotta good laugh out of it.

Now, we typically wear enough clothes to cover all necessary skin.  And I try to keep the carport cleaned up instead of letting the toys flow into the yard.  All of our cars have tires and run fairly smoothly.  And smoking is an absolute no-no at our house.  We aren't from around here and don't have a tractor.  But due to the looks we get, I'm fairly sure that we have formed our own category in Spencer County. 

I went to the local Dairy Queen the other day and had a lady stare at me so hard I finally asked her if my fly was down or if I had spinach in my teeth.....  OK, so I didn't really.  I did stare back.  And grin really big at her.  Which made her terribly uncomfortable.  And the only reason she was studying us so, was because my kids are so stinkin' cute, people can't help but stare.

So, our own category.....

#4  Really cute, Alabama-transplanted, obviously conspicuous Ethiopians.  Some of us are from Alabama, some of us are from Ethiopia.  We are all adopted.  And we are all really cute.  And we may sometimes act like city folks.  Or maybe even Rednecks.  We don't have a tractor or a boat and we pull exclusively for the Crimson Tide.  We may look different, but we are terribly fun to be around.  Honest.

I'm proud to be a #4.  And will continue to be friends with the 1, 2 and 3's.

As long as we can all still laugh at each other.