Earlier this year my husband and I took a trip to Jackson, Mississippi, for the national Sweet Potato Queens convention, which amounts to four days of parties and luncheons, topped off with marching in the St. Patrick’s Day parade.

At our hotel bar, scores of Sweet Potato wannabes were renewing last year’s friendships and making new ones. My husband wandered around taking pictures while I mingled. I noticed one very attractive blonde with a dynamite figure encased in a short, tight pink dress.

I tried not to stare as she made her way to the restroom, and when she returned, I almost burst out laughing. My dear sweet husband was with her.

He walked over to me. “Who’s your friend?” I asked.

“Her name’s Misty, and she wants to buy you a drink.”... Read More