Dumb Blondes!

I hate to say it but I have always been a dumb blond even before they were called that.  Today I had another blond moment.  My husband sent me to Tire Outfitters to have 4 new tires put on the van before we go on vacation.  We had ordered them at the same time our daughter and son-in-law ordered theirs.  I went into the place and told them that I had talked to them yesterday and they told me to come in this morning.  I gave them my name and they couldn't find it in the computer.  I mentioned ours were ordered with the Lynch's.  They checked the special orders and found nothing.  I mentioned that the Lynch's had theirs put on yesterday because I babysat the grandchildren during the time they were being done.  He checked the computer again and the special order book-nothing.  He called in 3 different sales people and asked if they had heard the name Montgomery.  They all said no.  When checking into the purchase orders they began to complain and scream about some Joe's handwriting and that they were probably  looking right at the order and couldn't read his writing.  A crowd of employees starts to gather and try to decipher Joe's handwriting.  "Could this possibly be it?" " I don't think so.  That doesn't have enough letters  in it to be Montgomery!"  Just as they are calling poor ole Joe and his "chicken scratching self" into the lobby "to let him have it about his handwriting"  I say something like "I'm sure my husband said Tire Outfitters."  "Tire Outfitters?  This isn't Tire Outfitters this is Tire Distributors!"  So then I have to further embarrass myself by asking that they tell me how to get to Tire Outfitter's.  I hope poor Joe didn't get it.  They were pretty hot under the collar when I left. By the way, while I was having my tires put on at TIRE OUTFITTERS, I was reading a women's magazine that was celebrating 125 years.  They had an old article from the 1800's about a special corset designed for "Fleshy Ladies."  So that's what they called plus size women back then.  How times have changed--from "fleshy ladies" to "all that junk in your trunk." Anyway, back to the dumb blond stuff, when I was a teenager my dad was letting me wash the car for money.  There was a new shirt I wanted downtown, and if we wanted extras we had to earn the money.  Daddy agreed to the price of the shirt only if "there wasn't one bug spot on the front of that grill!"  Bless his heart.  He probably could have had the car washed 3 times for the amount I needed for the shirt, but as I blogged before, daddy never said no when you asked something of him.  I go out and wash the car.  I scrub and scrub the whole thing until I am satisfied, but there are still spots on the grill.  "Daddy, I finished the car but there are spots on the grill that won't come off."  "Lisa, you're just going to have to use a little elbow grease."  After searching for 30 minutes in our storage building, I couldn't find one can that said Elbow Grease.  "If you want me to use Elbow Grease you're going to have to find it daddy!"  That's still my dad's favorite story about me.  One of these days when I get to Heaven I plan on asking the Lord what exactly it was that didn't develop properly in my brain when I was being formed.  By the way, I just used spell-check and found that I had misspelled blond {I had it spelled blonde} every single time in this post.  Somethings never change!