Skip to main content

Dumb Blondes

“Hey Mom, can I take the suburban and go to the mall?”
“OK, just to the mall and that's all”
“No mom, I'm going to hijack the suburban and take it to California”
“You do know I have a Lojack on it, right?”
“The suburban has a GPA?”
“Yes Stephanie. Our suburban has a Grade Point Average”
“It does??”
“No, it has a GPS on it, not a GPA. I'm sure our suburban, lovely as it is, does not need a high GPA, unlike you. How's that going, by the way?”

At this point she falls over laughing at her own stupidity. She is blonde and realizes that sometimes it simply can't be helped. Her beauty is a curse and a blessing.

Last week I was forced to use her beauty to attract males. Yes, I shamelessly put my daughter out of our suburban, told her to stand there and look helpless. Not a difficult thing for her to do, as she was helpless. Our vehicle's battery had died and between us we have the car I.Q. Of a gnat. A gnat that has met a messy end on our windshield. Neither of us really knows much about what's under the hood except that it goes. Except this time, it didn't. Go, I mean.
Key in ignition, key turning, annoying clicking sound.

“Mom?”
“Yeah honey, the battery is dead”
“Oh man, again?”
“Yeah. Ok, go lift up the hood and stand there.”
“I don't know how to get it going!”
“You won't need to honey. Trust me”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh...you're going to have guys falling all over you in about three seconds, begging you to let them help you”
“I will not!”
“Honey, trust me on this one”


So I pulled the hood lever to enable her to lift the hood, she pretended to look at the engine, then stood there, looking.....beautiful.

I swear, within 2.5 seconds, a man came dashing up to her.

“Do you need help” Oh please, oh please need help. Let me help you. Please oh please oh please.

“I think my battery is dead”

“Do you have jumper cables?” Oh please have jumper cables, oh please oh please oh please.

“No, I don't, do you?”

“Oh man...I don't. Um...listen, if you're still here when I get out of the store, we'll figure something out, ok?” Like you getting into my truck and both of us riding off into the sunset!

Within seconds of him walking off, another young man approached.

“Do you need help?” Oh please say yes, say yes say yes say yes!

“My battery is dead, do you have jumper cables?

“Oh...man. I don't know. Hang on, ok? Don't go anywhere. I'll go look I might. I'll be right back, ok?” Oh please let dad have put jumper cables in the trunk, oh please let dad have put jumper cables in the trunk....oh please.

Not five more seconds pass, with my gorgeous blond eighteen year old standing beside the raised hood when two young guys come by in a car.

You can see their eyes pleading, Oh wow, does she need help? I should ask her if she needs help. Oh man...I...oh...dang it she's hot. I could never talk to her...but oh...I want to see if, you know, she needs help....
They don't stop, but they do drive by three times with that look in their eyes.

I'm beginning to think that there are no men left in the world that carry jumper cables, after numerous gentleman stop to ask her if she needs assistance but can't offer jumper cables.

Finally, a white pickup truck roars up to us and pulls in to us, head to head. A very kind, and very shy man, gets out, jumper cables in hand and proceeds to hook them up to the doohickeys that will start our suburban again. He never says a word. I can see him stealing glances at me, then at my daughter, then at me again. I thank him profusely, and he ducks his head in acknowledgment.

I turn they key, the engine roars to life. He unhooks things, gets into his truck and drives away, and my daughter gets back into the suburban beside me.

“That is the only time it is acceptable to ask a guy if he can jump you, do you understand me young lady?”

“Mooooooom!”

Maybe she's not so dumb after all.

Comments

  1. That's the last time I shall help a damsel in distress then. You're obviously all trying to manipulate me.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Never mind the blonde daughter, you had me wanting to hook up my cables to your doohickeys.

    ReplyDelete
  3. once my car was broken down (okay not just once) and a friend of mine was in between apts and staying at my house. i was outside for an hour or so looking at the car as it sat in front of the apt door. as if that would help. i went back inside. she went outside. blonde and beautiful. five minutes later she had three men who wanted to help fix the car. true story.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You pimped your daughter to pimp your ride? For shame.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Annalee9:13 AM

    that is the first thing my dad taught me and my sisters to do. Learn how to hook up the jumper cables. not stand there and be helpless. The only times I have been helpless was when Zach had his adnoids out and Joel was 1 month old. All I could do for two weeks straight was sit in the couch with a boy in each arm. The second time was when Zach had his tonsils out and he coughed so hard that he broke stitches and he was bleeding and I didn't know what to do.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Great post! I really like the part where the kid told your daughter, "...Don't go anywhere..."

    ReplyDelete
  7. Jump you?

    There is an interesting proposition

    ReplyDelete
  8. *cracking up*
    as the mother of a blonde daughter, i so, so feel ya!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Dave my dear, would I try to manipulate you? I think not. Now....about my car..


    vicus, my husband took umbrage at your comment.

    Anna, it's sad, but true. Men swarm to the blondes for some reason. That reminds me, I need to touch up my hilights.

    Paul, I wouldn't call it 'pimping' per se. I prefer to call it strategic placement.

    Annalee, that sounds awful!

    Kindness, I know! Whoever says love is blind, should also know it can knock brain cells out of young men's heads.

    Whitesnake, remember I said that there is only ONE time that phrase is acceptable. However...in your case... :)

    FN, you feel my pain then.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Your husband took umbrage? The dirty old man. And you let him? Tut, tut.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Pamela, I would like to say thank you for your comment in my recent bout of ....well you know....


    It made me laugh and i love it when you do that.....it's almost better than sex......
    I said almost......You ever tried.......Oh Never mind....

    ReplyDelete
  12. Faulty fuel gauge, ran out of petrol on the Whitney by-pass, on the way back from honeymoon 84 years ago. New blonde wife. The bloke in the Honda was very surprised to see me appear from behind a nearby bush

    ReplyDelete
  13. Vicus, old dear. Himself took umbrage at your reference to my doohickeys, as they are his and his alone. Or so he says.

    Whitesnake...almost as good?? Almost?? Do tell. I'll expect a detailed report in my mail by noon.

    Richard, you crafty old devil. Oh wait..I did practically the same thing. Well aren't we creative!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Commentators should eschew the use of "honeymoon" and "bush" in the same paragraph in order to avoid unintentional snickering.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Oh God, I love stopping to help gals when they have broke down. Course most of them don't wanna let me carry on my journey, but hey, I gotta go, there might be another even better one round the corner.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Sadly..........I do not have your email addy.........sigh

    ReplyDelete
  17. You also need to run a conditioner and treatment from what I can see from your photo.

    Just an observation :)

    ReplyDelete
  18. pamela...where did you go? everything all right?

    ReplyDelete
  19. Those Virginia Slims ads are still as true today as they were when the Feminist Movement was in full swing ..

    You've Come A Long Way Baby.

    It is assuring to know that certain invisible, rudimentary, forces of Nature, like gravity and hornymones, can always be relied upon when you really, really, really need them.

    I can hear that MOooooooMM! HA!

    ReplyDelete
  20. everything ok at chez Troeppel?

    ReplyDelete
  21. dude! do i have to call???? 'cause i will!

    ReplyDelete
  22. HAHAHA! Men can be so predictable. I'd like to say I've never employed the "cute yet helpless" routine but that would just be disingenuous.

    /grin

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.


The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…

Back

BACK

Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
(all rights reserved)