Sweet Tea in the SouthIn the summer I'll hear them chatter and babble and chuckle and cluck like two frivolous chickens in pink polka dot dresses. I'll be peering down aisle nine and see neat rows of tea and crunchy, sugary biscuits they can shove into their mouths, indulge in their spoken virtues as little crumbs sprinkle onto their laps. They're heaving tomatoes drenching under summer sun, the crows feet under their baby blue eyes lapping up experience in the years they've lived down here, where sweet tea is a delicacy swimming around fat ice cubes. They'll haul their modern wagonwheel through the maze of eye twinkling treats, chirping for their tomato faced young while waddling away.I'll see them breezing past me in a feeding frenzy, two, three, four little chicks hustling over to their rather plump parents. They'll lug their crusted heels down the path, pecking for some chocolate chip cookies or those spicy pork skins with really mind boggling logo designs.