I love Lyle Lovett. He says all the kinds of things that I'm thinking in my head but don't want to say out loud. Back when G did not believe that night was for sleeping, we'd twirl and twirl to "One-Eyed Fiona." Now, that's a song you want to expose your baby to early. And often.
Anyway, one of Lyle's best songs is called "That's Right You're Not From Texas" a line which concludes with "but Texas wants you anyway." Good stuff. And I feel the same way. I am proud to be from Texas. I'm a native Texan, born and raised, and it's one of the things that makes me feel like I'm special. More special than people from other states. Sorry. Okay, not really.
My Kentucky friends think it's hilarious that there's a Texas Pledge of Allegiance. And one of the funniest people in the world could absolutely not fathom that there is an entire year of Texas history in 7th grade (he didn't know about 4th grade then). He said that Michigan history consisted of six short weeks somewhere in the middle of everything else.
And while it may seem a little outsized to most folks, it feels just right to us.
Until July, when the only place I want to be is in Colorado. Where it's 56 degrees. And raining.