Coming from the South, I have to say that “Andy” has never sat well with me. It brings up images of me in overhauls chewing on sour grass.
While playing in the woods in the back of my house in Georgia, I was once came upon some remarkable looking “nuts.” I was so intrigued and excited, that I picked them up and ran into the house to show my Dad. He was sitting in the living room in a chair reading the Sunday paper when I dropped the “nuts” on his lap exclaiming, “Dad, look what I found!” He quietly looked at them and told me, “Son, those aren’t nuts. They’re squirrel pellets. Please throw them away and wash your hands.”
I define myself by my family and what I’ve hopefully instilled within my children.
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