Living in a Small Town....
...is where the lady at the pizza place doesn't mind when your 5 year old pours out his piggy bank on the counter and pays for his saved-two-months-of-pennies-for pizza, and where the line of people behind you just smile 'cause one of them is your neighbor and another is your husband's second cousin, and say, "Good Job, Josh!" as he carries his very own pizza out the door.
...is where Sunday morning brunch is always at the same little cafe on the other side of town, and where when you find a hair on your hashbrowns you know it was either the waitress' (hubby's cousin) or the girl you go to church with, and you really don't mind that much so you pick it off and eat around the spot instead of making a fuss.
...is where you come home and find a big bag of garden grown tomatoes on your kitchen table and know it was the neighbors who brought them in and set them down when you were gone 'cause they know exactly how to get in and you're just thankful for the shared bounty.
...is where your child can go to an honest to goodness one room schoolhouse that has been in continuous operation since the late 19th century. It's where their cousins will go, where the girl we see every Sunday at brunch goes (she's 4th generation to go there!), and where they still say the pledge of allegiance every morning, where gum, swearing, and hat wearing are some of the worst offenses heard of.
...is where when you forget to pay your auto insurance the insurance guy spots you $400 from his own pocket, pays it first, then tells you later next time he sees you, and doesn't mind waiting until pay day to get paid back. Absolutely amazing.
...is where when you walk into the bank you don't have an account at to cash a check the teller looks at you, looks at the name on the check, and instead of asking for ID says, "Yeah, you look like (one of the family), are you (so-and-so's) kid? I went to school with him!" And cashes the check without thinking twice.
...is where when your wife spins the car off the icy road in January, 3 people call you before she even has the chance to call herself! First, a cousin, who works on the road commission who heard on the scanner in the shop, then an aunt, who drove by, and then a friend, who was listening to the scanner at her grandma's house! lol! By the time she made the call, the response was, "Yeah, I know, you spun off the road at such-and-such a milepost and the wrecker is already on the way!" The wrecker owner is also a family friend.
...is where your son is 6th generation resident. Roots run deep here in these potato fields!
...is where the state trooper sees you going 70 in a 55 and just smiles and waves 'cause he knows you're late for supper.