Sweet Tea...

Digging my toes into the sand, I was ready for a hard day of soaking in the sun.

My eyes were closed so I could absorb the sound of the ocean rolling in and out.

In with the good, out with the bad. In and out. In and out. The dull roar and steady rhythm slowly start to lull me to sleep.

As I head into the "neither-here-nor-there" state of a nice nap, my ears pick up on a voice of a woman sitting near me.

With her thick southern drawl, I listened to the music of her voice, not her words. It sounded sweet and inviting. As I listened to her, I realized she was on the phone with a good friend - a confidante.

Since she was talking loud enough for me to hear, I decided to tune out the ocean and tune into her.

She was on vacation with her family for the weekend. She had so much to do with the Women's Auxiliary. Did you hear about Betty?

Wait! What's this? A-ha! I found good southern gossip. I don't know who Betty is, nor do I care. I was curious how southern girls sling mud. I know how the northern girls do it. It's short and to the point. There's no flowery stuff floating around.

What I heard was pure verbal artistry.

"Well, ya'll know Betty? Ahm not one to say this, but Ah believe she's been dating sev-er-al men at one tahm. Ah just hope she's using sum sorta protection. What would her mama think? A bastard chald would kill her, bless her heart."

The woman sitting near me proceeded to talk about several other women in her parish. All her words were just as flowery and deadly.

Like Oleander tea with sugar, at first it is sweet and tasty, but in the end it will kill you.