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By Susan McCorkindAle
Special to the Rappahannock News a’M‘o,nr * was siting at my desk lVAwhen I heard my 10- year-old, Cuyler, and his best friend, Jeff, come racing into the kitchen.
“Hey, mom!” he shouted again as I caught the familiar sounds of the refrigerator door opening, slamming shut, and the pop! hiss! of two cans of Coke being readied for rapid consumption.
“Did you know we have Kudzu on the farm?"
“What do you mean, on the farm?” I shouted back. “It’s in the den."
In a flash, both boys were standing in my doorway. They were dirty, sweaty, and sucking down their sodas almost as fast as Jon Gosselin replaced Kate, and looking at me like I’d completely lost what was left of my mind.
“We have Kudzu in the den?” Cuy asked, incredulously.
“Yeah. Dad has a book of them. Kudzu puzzles. He has crossword puzzles, too. You guys want them?” I stood up and started down the hall. “Come on. I'll show you."
“Mom, that’s Sudoku." He made a circular motion with his index finger near his temple, and mouthed the word “blonde" to his buddy. “Kudzu is a vine."
I whirled around. “I saw that, dude." Both boys looked at the floor. Holy cow; they even had dirt on their eyelids.
“They call it ‘The Vine that Ate the South,’" Jeff ventured.
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