A Summer Afternoon on the Veranda

On a warm summer afternoon, two Southern belles sat on the wide veranda of a grand, white-columned mansion. The air buzzed with cicadas and smelled sweet with honeysuckle. Their rocking chairs creaked in lazy rhythm as they sipped tall glasses of iced tea, lemon wedges glinting in the sunlight.

They chatted about family, neighbors, and the little joys that make Southern life so rich—monogrammed linens, garden parties, and the art of saying everything with a smile.

A Life of Luxury

The first lady, clearly proud of her life’s luxuries, leaned forward.

“Well, sugar,” she began, “when my first baby was born, my husband was so thrilled, he built me this entire mansion. Every column, every brick—just for me. A tribute to our little miracle.”

The second lady smiled politely, her voice soft as magnolia petals.

“Well, isn’t that nice,” she said.

Encouraged, the first lady continued.

“And when our second child arrived, he outdid himself. Bought me that shiny new Cadillac out front. Every time I drive it, I think of how generous he is.”

Again, the second lady took a slow sip of her tea.

“Well, isn’t that nice.”

Now glowing with pride, the first lady lifted her wrist, showing off a sparkling bracelet.

“And when our third child was born,” she said dramatically, “he gave me this diamond bracelet. Isn’t it just dazzling?”

The second lady rocked back slightly, her eyes twinkling with quiet amusement.

“Well, isn’t that nice,” she said again.

The Surprising Twist

Finally, curious, the first lady asked,

“And what did your husband give you when your first child was born?”

Leaning back with a sly smile, the second lady drawled as smoothly as her tea:

“He gave me a reason to marry him.”