The Småland Scots

In my quest for a chicken joke, I came across one that reflected on the Småland half of my Scotland and Smålander connections. As my parents elected to blend Scottish and Smålander genes, my siblings and I must be the cheapest souls on earth:

- Om du inte har något emot det skulle jag vilja att vi vigdes i hönshuset, sa smålänningen till sin blivande brud.
- Men varför i hela fridens namn?
- Jo, på det viset går inte risgrynen till spillo.

If you dont have something against that should I want to us to marry in the henhous, said the Småland guy to his bride to be
But why in whole peace name?
Because then the rice will not go to waste.

Rim shot, please.

I told my husband and Malmö-based mother-in-law that a geneologist in the family had just traced our Swedish ancesters back to Småland.
A nod of the head.
"Isn't that wild? They could actually find that much family history," I said with the exuberance that only American mutts and slave descendants could appreciate.
A nod of the head.
"What are they like, these Smålanders?" I begged.

I am not sure why people who can speak a foreign language believe that just because an individual's ears cannot follow the conversation, the frozen-out loser must also be blind. My mother-in-law turned to my husband and muttered something under her breath, with a smirk in her face.

I could tell we were headed straight towards "No Princesses" land. But what was it if not the land of wealth and royalty? Why did they earn a smirk? Were they robbers? Did they refuse to bathe? Did they drink too little, go to church too much? Tell me.

"They were industrious," my mother-in-law soft peddled.
"Cheap," offered my husband.

The next day I spent 10,000 sek at Filippa K. It was my husband's money, what with the unfavorable exchange and all, but still. Someone's gotta wipe the smirks off the Skåneheads, right?