I can testify that we in the South consume lots of strange things. Dad used to say that we eat every part of the pig except the squeak. Ears, tails, feet and snouts — it seems we have strong stomachs. Did I mention we eat those, too?

After talking with my dad last weekend, it seems I had several misconceptions about him while I was growing up.

We had a large family: four boys, one girl, two dogs, and a green parakeet that ate hushpuppies off Dad’s head. The first misconception was the reason we had a garden every year. I thought it was for additional food to feed the family. Come to find out, this was not the reason Dad spent so much time in the backyard.

As far back as I can remember, Dad told me if I live a good and righteous life, God would never give me a task I could not handle. Never would I be faced with a decision I could not make.

The lights flashed on at Candi’s house. They were eyes peering into the darkness of the outside world. Yellow spilled out onto the front lawn and illuminated the green grass and a thick grove of trees, but that wasn’t all. Among the shadows of the pines, seven wide-eyed teenagers stood frozen like deer caught in headlights – and I was one of them.

The evidence was clear, and it covered our hands and faces. There was no denying it, but we still tried. What else could we do? My three brothers and I had just devoured all of Mom’s imported chocolate and gotten caught red-handed. Or should I say chocolate-handed?

Some rather stupid stuff has been done over the years. Trust me, I know. I was there doing it.

It’s amazing that I’ve made it this long without some serious injury. Like the time Big Brother James encouraged me to throw a rock at a hornet’s nest in the old dead oak tree up at the lake. That’s how Mom found out I was allergic to bee stings and how I learned that the head of an 8-year-old could swell up to the size of a basketball if stung by a bazillion angry hornets.

The fact the deck had been both swept off and stained a deep redwood didn’t startle The Wife. The fact that for two nights the back door stood closed but unlocked did.

Like most kids, we had to do a lot of listening while we were growing up. Some of us did it better than others. Mom used to say we needed to listen twice as much as we talked.

WARNING: this story is very timely, but it’s far from being funny. Funny will return next week; serious is here this week.

For two people who think so much alike, sometimes The Wife and I don’t always define things the same way. Last weekend was a good example.

Dad wouldn’t allow any animals to live in our house when we were growing up. He didn’t want anything else to feed or clean up after.

There once was a time when a lie was a lie. That time is no longer. When I was a boy, somehow the line between truth and outright lies has been blurred. Seemingly, nowhere is that line less defined than in the political arena of today. Caution: you have entered the world of misspeak.

Lately I’ve been told that I live in my own little world. That the way I view stuff is totally different than the way most people do.

We were cold, hungry, and miserable. When the night closed in, fat rain drops pounded us mercilessly, as if to punish us for the worry we were undoubtedly causing our parents. The wind howled like a stricken soul as we clung to our perch. We hung on so the wind and rain would not sweep us away as we chased any thoughts of sleep from our minds, knowing if we slept, we’d surely fall and die.

There are many things you can do to insure a happy marriage. Throwing out chocolate a week after Valentine’s Day because everyone in the house is supposed to be on a diet ain’t one of them.

The Wife and I were invited out to dinner with friends at a fancy downtown restaurant. Now I know it will come as a shock to many of you that I have friends willing to pay for my dinner, but put your fears at rest. The friends were hers; I just tagged along as her guest.

Blind dates never work out: everyone knows that ... except I know of one that actually did. But that’s the end of the story. The beginning started many, many years ago.

Winning and losing. Sometimes there’s a very fine line between the two. It may not be as newsworthy as the presidential election, who’ll win the next American Idol, or even the plunging stock market, but around our house it’s the biggest thing to happen all year. I won an argument with The Wife, an argument about history, no less.

Dad was really mad this time. He sat all of us down on the snow-covered curb in front of our house at 110 Flamingo Street. We were in big trouble, but I must admit it had been really a cool thing to see.

Men have been hunters and gathers since the dawn of time so it should come as no surprise that around tax time, we find we have gathered way too much stuff.

Some superheroes are born out of necessity; others have heroism thrust upon them. Captain Obvious didn’t arrive from a distant plant, spring forth from the molten core of the earth or cross over from a parallel universe. On New Year’s Eve he was born out of what seemed to be a benign statement made by yours truly: “Honey, you know tomorrow is New Year’s Day.”

If the pen is indeed mightier than the sword, then there should be no problem establishing a new writers’ group in Senoia; at least, that’s what I thought. Starting a writers’ group seems the next logical step on the road to becoming a published author. Who knew that road would be so arduous?

So I like to eat, lie around and not exercise. Is that a crime?

Nope, but my doctor said it’s unhealthy. He told me to get an exercise plan, lose weight and get back into shape.

When The Wife was in third grade, her parents gave her a special birthday present. Usually receiving birthday gifts from your parents isn’t all that unusual, but this gift certainly was. A peel-and-stick puzzle of the United States. Each state had a removable capital and a symbol of the main export. Georgia’s capital is Atlanta, and our symbol is peaches.

My job was to move the rock. I knew it was because that’s what Big Brother James told me to do. At 8 years old, I always did what he said, because big brothers are always right. He never would do or say anything to get his little brothers into trouble. I was so naive back then.

There’re two types of people in the world — those who like real ones and those who like fake ones.

Sure, an argument can be made for fake ones. They’re more symmetrical than natural ones. You can get them as small as you like or so big they hardly fit through the front door.

It finally happened — just in time for the holidays — The Wife’s leaving.

Now I know that’s not a surprise to some of you. How she puts up with yours truly for as long as she has is certainly a modern-day miracle.

Holiday traditions can be hazardous to your health. Trust me; I have the scars to prove it.

Most people get up early the Friday after Turkey Day and go shopping. They choose to fight traffic, fight to get a parking space, and fight other shoppers to get into the store first.

Gas can kill! Trust me. I know. After Twin Brother Mark ate broccoli at dinner, by bedtime he was deadly. When I was young, I thought that was the worst gas one could possibly smell, but as a firefighter, I know that’s not the case.

After reading the title of this article, you might be expecting some thoughtful insight into a happy married life. Perhaps you think that after over six years of writing a weekly newspaper article, somehow I’ve been able to come up with some tidbit of knowledge that maybe you haven’t been able to grasp which will lead to marital bliss. Nope, sorry — I ain’t that good. But read on, it’s still a funny story. And like the other stories I write, it’s all true. Well, most of it anyway.