Technically we live south of the Mason-Dixon line. But for all intents and purposes we are about as Yankee as they come. We don't eat grits or display Confederate flags or have insanely large hair (save for a few bad choices in bangs in the early 90s). And we definitely do not speak with any kind of accent. We don't even use those fun Dr. Phil sayings to spice up our conversations.
But my son, apparently he is a Southern boy. At times he will speak as if he was raised in the Bible belt, with a full-on drawl. I don't know where this comes from. Just the other day, my husband asked Jack who he loves. Jack replied, "I love JAY-SUS!" with the enthusiasm of a evangelical preacher out saving souls.
He kicks into this good ol' boy speak every once in a while, sounding like our very own Forrest Gump. "Mama and Daddy are ma fray-ends," is one of his classics.
He says that we mow the grass with a "TRAYC-tor" and behind it you pull a "TRAY-lor."
Despite our Northern roots this boy is slightly Cajun.