The Post About Being Southern and Aging Rapidly

My Mom and I recently attended a Southern Show. These exhibitor events take place all over the South, as well as in the honorary Southern cities of Cleveland and Novi, Michigan.

These multi-day samplaloozas force you to face the sources of your greatest fears and greatest joys:

• Weight
• Aging
• Health
• Fashion
• Food

The best part of this emotional journey is the free stuff.

Thanks to my friend Jem, I'm obsessed with canvas grocery totes. So now I own 23.

There are cooking demos by great local chefs and companies where they feed you fish and teach you how to fish. And by "fish," I mean "deep fry."

If you don't have White Lily baking products where you live, you should move. Then you can make phenomenal biscuits and live closer to me. Win, win.

One sample I received is questionable:

I don't think the Naming Department at Metamucil should win any awards. Unless it's the "Most Likely to Reflect What Happens After Consumption" award. Congratulations.

The most overwhelming experience from the Southern Women's Show involved a questionnaire my mother and I completed at a health booth. After answering a series of inquiries, your "true" health age was revealed. My soon-to-be-60-year-old Mom discovered her health age was 52. Yay for Mummy!

I stepped up, completed the quiz, and was informed that I too am 52.

Oops.

{images: Jamie}