Shotguns, underwear and the house wine of the south.

Some things are so "southern" that I forget they are not common everywhere. Take for example, Sweet Tea, House Wine of The South.

To demonstrate how vital sweet tea is to a southerner I'm going to tell you a story. I was 14ish when this happened.

I woke up from a nightmare one night and suddenly wondered if my father would hear me if I screamed. An important question to my then shaken, scrambled brain.

You know, it's a lot harder than you might think to psych yourself up to let out a blood curdling scream at 3 am for no good reason other than curiosity.

Five minutes later I worked up the nerve. I let loose a scream of primal, if feigned, terror. My heart was pounding as I waiting for my dad to bust in the room on full alert. And I waited.. And I waited. And, uh, waited. My father slept through it. Damn him!

A few months later I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night. I walked down the hall, into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of tea. As I was leaving the kitchen the hall light came on. I rounded the corner to see........ my father. In his underwear. Holding the shotgun! We looked at each other in surprise. "Hi dad", I say.

To which he replies, "I thought someone had broken in". My come back, "I doubt the tea is high on the list of 'To Steal'."

We broke the uncomfortable eye contact and both went to our rooms.

Sooo.. I, my father's only child, a daughter he loves like life itself, can loose a bowels-to-water scream in the dead of night, That, THAT he sleeps through. But may the Gods have pity on your soul if you try to get the Sweet TEA!

That's how important Sweet Tea is .. in the south.