Real Men Wear Kilts

or so it says on my hubby's new t-shirt. We went to The Highland Games at Furman University on Saturday and it was fabulous! My handsome husband got to wear his kilt for the first time...hubba hubba! Now I like to fancy myself a pseudo Scot - a quasi lassie, as it were. For a time I actually did truly believe I had some Scottish roots on my maternal Grandfather's side. I considered myself part of the most esteemed of scottish clans - Clan MacDrunkard. Yoo Hoo! Unfortunately, my aspiration to be closer to my scottish kin folk led me to do some research on geneology online. Well drat! I found out I'm most likely Welsh. Not that there's anything particularly wrong with that (don't want to offend a segment of the UK out there!), but when was the last time you saw a Welsh festival anywhere? And to make matters worse, I found out my family's surname means literally, "a round, lumpish or stupid person." Nice.

So now I have to rely on my other two countries of origin, Czechoslovakia and Germany. We are a very hardy crew. Clearly I come from a background of stout peoples. No wonder I'm fighting with my muffin top.

Ok, from now on I'll just have to enjoy the highland games in celebration of my husband's nationality...but Octoberfest, here I come baby!