Alex spent part of this morning and afternoon with Martha, and apparently when she fixed him a delicious homemade lunch of carrots, green beans, and rice, he proceeded to tell her that he doesn’t really like those things, thank you, but he does, however, like brownies.
So I think it’s pretty much a given that he’s in Official Spoiled Rotten Mode. Which is perfectly fine by me.
When Mama went by Martha’s house to pick up the little man later this afternoon, Martha mentioned to Mama that she would really like to come visit D. and me. She still hasn’t seen our new house because for the last six months she’s had her hands full taking care of D.’s grandmother, and Martha told Mama that she’s “dying! just dying! absolutely dying!” to come visit.
Since Mama and Daddy are planning to meet us in a couple of days (if in fact Alex decides that he’s ever coming home again), Mama suggested that Martha should hop in the car with them and instead of meeting us halfway, they’d just come straight to our house and spend the night. That way Martha could have a little time away from home, she’d finally see the house, and she’d have even more time with Alex.
Martha replied – AND I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP – that unfortunately Wednesday won’t work for her because that’s the day she’s planning to take her recently widowed friend Rubena to eat fried catfish at the church.
I’ll pause for just a second so that you can really soak up that last sentence.
There’s a whole lot of Southern in there, my friends.
And I have laughed my head off all night long as a result.
Really, y’all, I almost feel like Martha has laid down some sort of gauntlet in terms of Terribly Southern Ways To Decline An Invitation.
And, as any good Southern girl would do, I’ve spent a good bit of time tonight trying to rise to Martha’s unintended challenge.
So here are a few of my own, though I think it’s pretty clear that I have a lot to learn from my mother-in-law…and for those of you playing at home, you can preface each one of my polite refusals with this phrase:
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because I…
- - have to make mint juleps for the Kentucky Derby party.
- - have to wash Bubba’s clothes for the tractor pull.
- - have to polish my silver service before the Wesley Circle’s tea.
- - have to bake a pound cake for my neighbor’s nephew’s ex-wife’s cousin who’s having a terrible time with her bursitis.
- - have to stock up on real butter for Paula Deen Theme Night at our supper club.
- - have to get the crepe myrtles pruned before the Southern Living photo shoot.
- - have to get my hair fixed before I go to the Winn Dixie (OH WAIT, MARTHA ALREADY DOES THAT).
I could go on and on. But I won’t, because I want to hear from y’all.
Now granted, Martha may have taken the grand prize what with working a recently widowed friend, fried catfish and church into hers (it’s like a Southern etiquette trifecta, really), so we’ll just consider her the standard-bearer and have ourselves a little contest.
So if you’re a Southern girl – or even just an observer of the South – come up with what you think is the epitome of a polite refusal, Southern style. Make up as many as you want, in fact, and post them in the comments.
I’ll take all the “entries” that have been posted by 6:00 pm Tuesday night (and that’s CENTRAL TIME, THE OFFICIAL TIME ZONE OF THE DEEP SOUTH), and I’m going to get three friends to judge them. I won’t announce those friends’ names until after the fact because, well, I still have to ask them to do this and all, but I’m sure they’ll be more than willing because my friends are sweet like that.
After they pick the “polite refusal” that they deem the most Southern, I’ll send the author of the comment a copy of this book:
Of course, I haven’t actually read this book, but I thumbed through it this past weekend in Mississippi and it looks absolutely adorable. You can read more about it here.
And in the meantime, I’ll get my friend Lea Margaret to tell me ALL about it, because one of the authors is from Greenville, Mississippi, and quite frankly there’s not a soul in Greenville that Lea Margaret doesn’t know.
As Martha would say, this is going to be more fun, y’all! Just more fun! We’ll just have more fun!
I may have to eat me a little fried chicken to celebrate.
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A few more- short, I promise. :>)
I would love to but…
I promised Big Mama I would come over and help her dress all that meat from the wild hogs Capital P killed.
The Weather Channel said it might rain that day. You know I never travel in bad weather. That Jim Gandoory sure seems like a fine young man. He looks a lot like your Daddy’s people.
I’m not even gonna try…Clementine and her Kut n Kurl/Rosepointe silver have it locked up.
Thanks for the great laughs y’all :)
I am rollin’. I’m sure I have one or two “polite” Southern refusals in my arsenal somewhere, but I just can’t seem to get them out. Clemntine’s Kut’n'Kurl gets my vote!!! I also love Fiddledeedee’s Piggly Wiggly sausage story. Sorry this MS gal can’t add anything to the pot–you’ve got it all already!
Unless you count-
“That’s the day we’re getting ‘lectricity put in so we don’t have to keep trekking out to th’ outhouse.”
(Nobody’s said anything ’bout us not having electricity down here in MS.)
*picks herself off the floor from where she fell after laughing so hard*
I sincerely wish I could add to this list, but I’m afraid I don’t have any original ideas! I love the one about the package store over the state line. My great-grandmother used to buy brandy to make minced meat pies, and she’d assure the guy in the package store that she was buying it for COOKING and NOT drinking. I’m sure he cared! :-)
Okay, could somebody pretty please refer to the War of Northern Aggression somehow in their excuse? It would make my day. Or week. ; )
’cause I gotta take tha baby to welfare and gett’er wic. And ya’ll know how hard it is to take 11 young’uns anywheres!
Lord have mercy, I think some of these bloggers are much more Southern than I deemed myself to be.
I’m just going to grab me a glass of lemonade, sit back on this here porch swing and just soak in all this charmin’ Southern humor…
Looks like you hit another vibe, Boomama, and I’m going to enjoy it all.
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because I…
hafta see Sue Ann at the beauty shop to have mah hay-a frosted. See, tha Rattlesnake Festival is Satuhday in Opp, and I’ll need time to make some sweet tea to take with us.
i guess i’m too close to the source (south arkansas). i can’t think of a single thing.
Umm… I’m a Yankee so I’m a little confused as to what is going on here?? fried catfish on Wednesday at a church? mint juleps? Wesley Circle’s tea? Boomama you are a Southern educator if I’ve met one!! Love this!
Landsakes, I haven’t laughed this hard in a ‘coon’s age! Here’s this Yankee girl’s lame attempt:
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because–
I have that road trip with the Tallapoosa Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy. We’re headin’ up nawth so that we can whitewash the Mason-Dixon line–you know how I love community service.
No, honey, just the West Virginia portion. Did you know that up until now, the line hasn’t actually been visible to the eye? Well, when the DotC found that out, we all knew we just had to do somethin’ about it.
And, have mercy–I have to drive the Winnahbegah, because I can’t trust Mama at the wheel anymore, no–not since she started doctorin’ up her sweet tea of an afternoon. So you have a nice time without me, Sugar, and we’ll get together real soon!
Oh, shoot, I wish I could but my cousin is fixin to come over and dig up some mint for her tea. I swear it’s taken up my whole yard!
Dang it, I’d come but we’re havin’ the pastor over for a mess o’ greens, pink eyed peas, and cornbread for the new year so I gotta season my skillet.
Oh sister, thank you for inviting me but I gotta help my deddy in the back yard trim the kudzo with a weed wacker.
Whatchoo mean havin’ a wedding the day of the Alabama Auburn game? Are you crazy? Sorry. Can’t make it.
Oh, honey, that’s the night the church is having the potluck celebratin’ our centenniel down at the depot. I hear Linda May is gonna be there and I can’t believe she’s gonna show her face after gettin’ knocked up with that Billy Dan Mason’s baby when he was still courtin’ Lureen. Some people outta have some shame. I’m just sayin’.
Dang it if I can’t come cuz I gotta run out to the likker store to make a sugar tit for Emmy Jo’s newborn baby. That chil’ cries like a stuck pig and her legs get all drawed up when she howls. I swear her mama needs ta quit eatin baked beans afore she nurses the child. Bless her heart, my MeeMaw always said if you just sip on a Bud all day long and eat rich foods you’d have milk richer ‘n puddin’. But that’s just me talkin’.
Oh my these are too funny!!! Clemntine, Brenda and Reformed Grits are my favs.
Lorda mercy that last one about makin’ a sugar tit nearly made me wet my pants!
I love the South!
Ooooh, I just thought of another one. I do beg your pardon.
I’m so sorry, Darlin’! But I promised my Mary Kay lady that I would host a Spring Fling Pedicure Party for her that afternoon. I simply cannot disappoint her. She was so good to Jefferson’s mother when she had her first stroke–do you know she went to the hospital every day for two weeks to do Mama Boyle’s face up? And she is sooo close to winning that Pink Cadillac! She really needs my help.
Oh, how fun . . . I’m gonna take a stab at it now . . .
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because–
-I’m plum wore out from cranking the home made ice cream for the WMU potluck.
-I’ve gotta tie the onions up in my ol’ panny hose and hang ‘em under the carport so they don’t go bad.
-I’ve gotta take a peach cobbler to the funeral parlor because my Sunday School teacher’s cousin passed on.
Thanks for the walk down memory lane!
Martha actually has 4 Southernisms in her reply. NOWHERE else would someone be named Rubena!
Oh honey, you should have checked the official calendar, you know, the fish and game calendar, before you planned your wedding. I just cannot come, honey. You know how Daddy and Bubba like me to be waiting at the camp with a hot lunch after a long day up in the stand? I just can not make it. You should have known better.
Now be sure to take lots of pictures so I can come by your mamma’s and look at them. Oh and of your honeymoon too. Take lots of pictures. Oh and of your pignoirs too. I know you picked out some pretty ones!
OK, this is for Sarah
Darlin’, I just cannot make it to you Independance Day barbeque in Clinton. I simply can’t fathom celebrating anything on that day. You know, when I was a girl in Vicksburg, we never even gave a second thought to July 4th. The wounds were just too fresh from the siege during the War of Northern Agression. There is simply nothing, I mean nothing civil about that time in history. Those Yankees starved, I mean starved Vicksburgites during that time. They should have been shot. But the poor women and children couldn’t even defend themselves.You know, because they hadn’t eaten in months. What a pity. But thanks for asking honey.
*It is at this point the young women walks off shaking her head wondering why, oh why she ever brought it up*
This is in the line of Southern phrases, but off subject: My husband’s family had a friend come help them once a week to do housework, her name was Rodessa. Rodessa told this story, “I caught my boyfriend with another woman last night at the B’wana so I rutched down in my bosum, got my knife and staubed him.”
No kidding!
Their family helped Rodessa out until she died do to complications from diabetes.
Holly
Holly
Oh, honey … bless your heart for askin’, but I really won’t be able to join you because I’ll be scrambling to bake a bleeding armadillo cake for Shelby’s wedding.
Side note: Directions to said cake can be found here: http://baking.about.com/b/a/137259.htm (just in case anyone … you know … CARES.)
How about this one:
Sugar, that’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’ll be busy for the next few weeks gathering items for the Junior League’s annual Tag Sale.
or …
Sweetie, that’s so kind to offer, but I’m afraid I’ll be tied up baking for the local Red Hat Society’s bake-sale to raise money so that we can properly treat those pesky little worms eating at the town’s Magnolia tree. Why, it’s been there since my momma was a child!
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because I promised my husband I’d help him put up some pickles.
;P
I am laughing so hard, this made my day. My dad’s side of the family is from West Virginia and all still live in the deep south. I think it is wonderful, they crack me up. Here is one my aunt said to my mom many years back.
Oh, Darlin, you are just sooo sweet, but I just can’t make it. The derbies next week and I promised sissy we would go to buy our big hats today. Darlin, you know it just aint fittin for a southern woman to attend the derby without a new proper hat.
This is just too much!! I love it!! I’m from the south, but I don’t have anything to measure up to ya’ll.
But my husband would say, Sorry, I can’t. Gotta go see a man about a mule!
As a Southerner myself, I must say that I don’t envy your judgin’ friends one tiny bit. Everybody Southern knows that in any contest worth it’s salt, there are no losers, just contestants with a few more leftovers to take home than the others. And I’ve never had more fun reading comments to a post! I’d have to say, again as someone Southern, that every single one of these sounds like perfectly acceptable social excuses to me. And just you mentioning reading them while eating fried chicken made me want some. :)
Honestly, this weekend I had to go see my cousin Shane get married. They got married outside his mother’s trailer in front of a sign that said “Dirty Hippy”. Shane married my cousin Nita’s brother’s ex-wife. The bride’s two son’s by one marriage walked her her to the preacher/biker to say their vows. Her pregnant daughter by another marriage was the maid/matron (was she married?)of honor. We ate boiled shrimp and ribs along with the wedding cake. I wore a dress and except for the bride was the best dressed one there. Oh, but you asked for southern not redneck. My apologies. But I have pictures if you don’t believe it’s true.
After reading these great comments, I’ve learned that, as much as I’ve thought Virginia is in the South…it’s really not. That doesn’t make me a **** Yankee, does it?! ;p
I love the Kut N Kurl, yes Winn Dixie is a real place, as well as the Pig (Piggly Wiggly). My favorite beauty shop however is an honest to goodness place here in Alabama “Kurl Up and Dye”.
I love every minute of being Southern!
LOL!! My mom has said similar things before. She can’t come visit because she is talking the ladies from my aunt’s senior apartment building grocery shopping. All seperate trips mind you. Some shop at different stores and others won’t go with others or they are all at different health stages (walking, breathing) and can’t go together. Hence all the seperate trips top the store(s). That is why Martha’s reply just seemed so natural to me. LOL! :o) Southern Canada
Law! Can’t beat none of them gals! I give up!
But I do just have to ask–did anybody mention havin’ to go to Lulu May’s fittin’ for her pageant dress–Seein’ how it is her last time to try for the crown–she has had her pretty lil head set on wearin’ that tiara since she was knee high, doncha ya know–but well, she is gettin’ little long in the tooth an all–I jus know she’s goin’ win, cause after all Marybeth Louise did get herself (well you know that story) anyway she can’t be in it this year–keep your fingers crossed for my lil Lulu May won’ cha, girl!
BooMama,
There is no way to top any of these comments. However, as a born-and-bred Alabamian (and the church said ROLL TIDE!!), I thought it would be appropriate to mention several words that were a part of the last conversation I had with my Grandmother. She lives near Auburn, in The Valley. Her name is Bobbie Sue.
Here goes:
The Piggly Wiggly, The Kroger, and The Wal-Mart (because there’s only one of each you know), The Fredonia Bar-B-Q, Hawaii (she pronounces it Ha-Wire-Ya), Her weekly hair appointment on Thursday with Sandra at the Beauty Shop, my Granddaddy’s new knees (he had knee-replacement in the last year), telling me that 70-year olds should not be required to figure out email, running down to Dot & Gertis’ house to get veggies from the garden because they had too many to can, and funny stories of different Easter when her kids were young.
It was precious and priceless, and each of these comments remind me of that. I just love it!
I have so loved this post, as a true Mississippi girl transplanted to Tennessee.
I could read it all day long. ALL DAY LONG!!!
Oh, it just makes me so sick that I’ll have to miss it, but I’m afraid that I have a touch of the vapors and am just not quite myself. I’m just gonna have me a little dinner of sweet milk and cornbread and take to my bed.
Thank you, Polly. I am forever grateful. : )
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because–
well, I just cain’t…
Oh, there’s my California roots showing again, dog gone it:0)
These are too sweet. They remind me of my grammaw who was from Tennessee and raised me til I was 8. She actually had a widowed friend she drove around to Denny’s for breakfast and to the grocery store several times a week. I was deeply priveledged to be part of those trips. =)
She would have declined by saying something like:
Sorry doll, but me n’ Pap’s gotta husk some pole beans for supper on Sunday. Then I’m gonna have me a co-cola and a mallowpie while I watch m’ stories. I just gotta find out who shot JR!!
I can’t even participate because none of your suggestions sound one bit odd to me! :)
I’ve been in Colorado for six years now, and I gotta say – reading your blog is more like going home than actually going home. Thanks!
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I cain’t make it because I have *got* to take Ain’t Lorena’s brown divan to get re-upholstered after her Chihuahua, Prissy, had her last litter on it. She’s expecting the seniors from church next Wensdy for a 42 tournament. I don’t know why they didn’t disfellowship her when she left Clardis for that carpet layer. Anyway, if you ask me that upholstry is just fine. I mean, Lawzy, she cleaned it twiced. You know how she likes to put on airs, though.
OK, well here’s my attempt. If they’re totally lame, then just remember that I only moved to Georgia a year and a half ago, from the SouthWEST!
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because I…
… have GOT to get those buttons sewn onto your uncle Cleo’s uniform for the Civil war re-enactment over at Pickett’s Mill on Saturday. I don’t know why those old men insist on marching around that place every year with their silly hats and such!
… need to make my famous ambrosia to carry to the potluck dinner up at the church t’morrow. Ruthie just raved about it at Christmastime, and that snarky Virginia tried to copy my recipe at Easter, but it just wasn’t the same, you know, without my secret ingredient! (It’s the coconut and the amaretto liqueur, my dear, but don’t you tell a soul!)
… promised your Aunt Myrtle that I would put flowers on mother’s grave down at the church cemetery last week, and if she drives by there and sees that I haven’t done it yet, she’ll cut me into a million pieces and never speak to me again!
Oh, Sugar, it’s so sweet of you to ask, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you because I…
-have to make 250 gallons of funnel cakes batter for the Mule Day parade! You know I do that every year!
-gonna run little Billy down by the drugstore and have Mr. Anthony rub his warts (sad, but true story).
-gotta cook up a mess of greens and white beans for the add a dish on Sunday. You know good white beans and greens gotta be cooked ALL DAY!
I would never dare enter the fray on this one, but for my two cents, Clemntine wins it.
Southern as I am, I don’t think I could ever beat any of these, bless my heart :) Hilarious!
lol at Clementine! I think she definitely gets it.
P.S. This post brings back memories of some of my favorite quotes from Steel Magnolias (the contemporary be-all, end-all of southern women’s movies):
“Clairie, you know I would rather walk on my lips than criticize anyone, but Janice Van Meener…” (as they watch an un-girdled large woman dancing at a wedding)… “looks like two pigs fighting under a blanket”.
“Sweet Tea, it’s the house wine of the south!”
“Boys, do not decorate your sister’s get-away car with rub-uhs (condoms). It’s tacky!”
“M’Lynn, you just missed the chance of a lifetime. Half of chick-a-pin parrish would give their eye teeth to have a whack at Wheezer!”.
:)
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