Not that well traveled

On the way home from Walmart (yeah, I go to Walmart too) Randy started a conversation about Yankees. I swear I didn't start this one. He started by saying something about not being a Yankee. He said the word like he had just gotten away with cussing.

One of the cool things about having a boy is that I can mold him in any direction I want. Last year I told him it was better to be Republican and he went around calling people he didn't like, "democrat". Now the boy is disgusted by a Yankee.

Cari told Randy that she was a Yankee because she was born in Illinois. He replied with, "Well, dad isn't a Yankee!" Cari jumped quick on that statement and pointed out that I was born in Chicago. Randy was not willing to give up the fight and replied, "That is kinda South, right dad?"

His mother continued to tell him that even he would be a Yankee. He was born in Florida but Cari swears everyone in Florida is from the North, so Floridians are Yankees too.

Randy and I started to fight back but Cari changed the topic. She brought Randy's other hero into the mix. Jeff Gordon. Jeff is from California. Not a Yankee, not a Southern boy, but a Westerner.

Randy: "I'm a Westerner!"
Me: "Boy, you have never been out West! You are an Easterner."

Then it occurred to me. I have never been West of the Mississippi. I guess I never really thought about it, but I have lived my life confined to the East coast. Next vacation we go on I'm going to drive out to the Mississippi river and stand on the other side for a few minutes before we continue on.

Randy: "Well, at least we aren't Yankees. Right dad?."
Me: "That's right, boy."