On December 9, 1989, it happened. A Mississippi State Bulldog, full maroon blooded Dawg, married a University of Southern Mississippi Golden Eagle. What could be so bad about that? We agreed to disagree when it came to sports. I kept my mouth shut, and he shouted louder than any fan I have ever heard! ‘Cause we’ve attended and watched many State games on TV, so he yells. And I leave the room. That’s the way it’s been for almost 23 years now. We are a house divided, but in order to stay united, we have agreed to leave each other alone about our teams and to not have direct discussions about either one, unless it’s something positive. We have yet to attend a Southern game, but we both have watched them on TV. On occasion. Nothing regular, trust me. To his credit, he has offered to take our family to a USM game, but we’ve never actually done it. I might possibly take him up on that offer real soon.
You would think a USM girl would be smarter than to agree to Handsome Hubsand’s (HH) most recent maneuver. (Yes, that’s the way I spell hubsand, ’cause that’s what I’ve always called him, y’all.) Yes, I actually agreed to be moved away from some very dear friends and into what he calls “God’s Country”. The land of maroon and white. The Dawg’s back yard. Don’t get me wrong – for the most part, State fans are fun! I would have enjoyed going to school at State if it had worked out that way. But, my dad told all three of us, in college at the same time, that we could go to college anywhere we wanted. But tuition was paid by him at USM, and we could live at home. Who in their right mind would turn down that deal? Home cooking and tuition with no school loans. Thanks, Mom and Dad! Southern is a good school. I believe college mostly teaches you how to think and broadens your horizons, no matter which school you attend.
Jeffrey, on the other hand, was raised in the land of the Dawg. His dad was a State graduate, and Jeffrey had maroon blood, too, so he couldn’t help it, y’all. He had to be a Dawg! He still is, and he will always be – a Dawg. So, I cannot fight it, and I’ve always known that. So, I supported his team and bought him a very expensive (in my book, for a Dawg) plate early in our marriage to adorn a wall at home. I never received the USM coordinating plate to balance that wall, but a great friend bought me my very own plate that allowed me to hoot about my Golden Eagle team. Finally, some Eagle representation! Thank you, friend, and you know who you are. (I will not say a name to protect the innocent.)
So, back to the part about moving me to “God’s Country”. This house we’ve moved to has two bricked pedestals beside our front steps, perfect for some potted plants, gargoyles (yuk, y’all!), a lion on each side, or something like that. Jeffrey always said he’d like to have a Dawg on one pedestal, and he would even agree to a Golden Eagle on the other. You know – equal representation. What do you know? He must love me!
Until today, I thought it would never happen, so I kept a potted plant on each pedestal, working hard at watering year-round to keep the things alive for five years (but who’s counting?), picking them up and reassembling after each high wind or tornado. As I said, until today…do you hear the drum roll?
TA-DAH! Who needs daisies? You know…He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, etc. He got me the Eagle! Don’t you fellow Eagles just love it? Me too!! It’s not even my birthday, or Mother’s Day, or Christmas, or Valentine’s Day. It’s just a “Happy Day”, y’all. (And, a bonus – no more watering!) The funniest thing happened immediately after replacing the potted plants with these new concrete creatures. Our outside d-o-g dog (the normal kind), Suzi-Q, started barking at the Eagle immediately. She was intimidated, y’all! (And so should ANY dog or Dawg be, at least we Eagles believe.)
And so, a house divided when it comes to schools at least has equal representation on the front porch. We’re still working on the back porch, which has a huge concrete bulldawg and a baby Bully nearby. Dare I ask for an Eagle for balance there? I think not. I am satisfied. Thank you, HH for my Eagle. I love you, too, and here’s your hoot!