Spit take.

If you cannot make it home to hang out at the gun range with your dad come Easter morn, you do the next best thing and head for Southlier skies.

My delightful friends in Winston-Salem invited me for a brunch celebration, complete with colorful characters, squishy children and a crap ton of bacon.

While the entire weekend was spectacular, there was one particular conversation I had with our super sweet hostess that will forever remain as one of my favorite memories.

Because she is a delightful Southern woman, I will rename her "Truvy" for the purpose of this conversation and because it makes me think of Dolly Parton.

Truvy: Sara, I've been meaning to talk to you.
Sara: Oh yeah?  What about?
Truvy: I have a wonderful young man I want you to meet.
Sara: Really.
Truvy: Yes, he is such a nice guy and I've told him all about you.
Sara: Okay... (this was me, trying to remain open-minded)
Truvy: He's an opera singer-
Sara: Truvy, is he gay?
Truvy: (laughs) No!
Sara: Hm.
Truvy: He works in fragrances-
Sara: Truvy, he's gay.
Truvy: (laughs again) I know, I know, but he's not!
Sara: Uh-huh.
Truvy: Now, he is a bit of a clotheshorse, and I know that's not your usual style...

At this point, all I could do was smile and nod because I was so amused, and oddly touched, by the whole thing. 

Later, I sought out my friend Amy and told her about the conversation.

Sara: Truvy's trying to set me up with an opera singing clotheshorse who works in fragrances.
Amy: I know!  He's gay!

This, my friends, is exactly what Easter should be.