Southern Mother

Most of my siblings have lived at home while they completed their undergraduate studies at Southern Utah University. I have followed on that path and am currently residing in my parents' basement while I am attending SUU. Living at home has its perks: free housing, free utilities, free laundry facilities, free Wi-Fi, four blocks away from campus, a yard, and free food (I know that these aforementioned items are not free, but they pretty much are for me in the situation I'm in).

Food.

I believe in the universal language of food. Well, and music, but let me talk about food on this post. Everyone eats. Sure, we all have different preferences, but when all is said and done, every human being eats, myself included (this should dispel unfounded rumors that I am a robot). Do you know who else eats? Poor, starving college students. Albeit, they may not be starving, but they sure don't eat well. Ramen noodles with Easy Cheese does not count as eating well. I have given many of my friends the label of "PSCS" or Poor Starving College Students and I try to help out with at least one of those letters. The S.

Whenever I have a group of friends at my house, it is usually an eclectic group, and one thing we all have in common is food. So I cook for them. And I love it. I desire to cook for them. I want them to eat. I want them to be comfortable. I want them to have some nutrition in their PSCS diet.

This strong urge to feed people has been called Southern Mother Syndrome, because nothing in the world can trump Southern Hospitality. While I was serving my mission, I cannot tell you the number of times I was invited to cookouts while walking the streets of the hood, or traversing the lanes in suberbia. (I can't tell you because I don't want to look it up in my journal, and my memory is too bad to remember. But it was at least three times). Southern people are just so hospitable.

I am now called the Southern Mother to many of my friends. If it wasn't for the situation I am in of living at home, I wouldn't be able to fulfill my "motherly instincts."

So please, make yourself comfortable, and let me feed you.

And y'all come back now, ya hear?