I've heard enough y'all-ing down here to warrant a firing squad. I don't really get the southern accent. Yesterday at the park a woman with a t-shirt reading simply BAMA kept yelling to her son "Bin! Bin! Bin!" Finally, when Bin didn't answer she sternly called "Binjiman!" and I finally realized all along she was calling for Ben. Why name your kid Ben if you are going to call him Bin? For about 30 minutes I was perplexed that a kid was named Bin even more so than the pinstriped blue sleeveless cotton shirt with matching BLOOMERS the child was wearing. He was at least 12 months old -- Bin was walking -- and he was donning BLOOMERS. Is everyone insane around here or am I being featured on that hidden camera show that used to star Allen Funt but I'm sure now stars someone else because Allen Funt is probably deceased?
Also, all the roads here are named after people I've never heard of. Doug Baker Blvd., Hugh Daniel Pkwy, etc. At least in Chicago you know whose road you're driving on. Like Hugh Hefner Way. Sure, he's a pornographer but at least I know who he is.
That said, we're having a good time here. The McWane Science Center for Kids is amazing for toddlers and there is a cute, mainly uninhabited park behind a firehouse. The girls are sliding to their heart's content, and if any of us need resuscitating (which I might feign) we have 20 heroes within about five feet ready to assist.
PS -- Before I get lambasted for making fun of southern accents, might I confess I am guilty of using the term "you guys" which isn't exactly the Queen's English. Okay? Sheesh. Oh, and people are very friendly here. Which I wouldn't be in this sweltering heat.