You know, there are tons of jokes based on ethnic, gender, size, color, or any other stereotype you can throw out there, and maybe it’s not fair to assume that anyone six feet tall can shoot hoops, but there’s a reason Blonde’s have a bad rap. That reason is my daughter. No kidding.
When she was 15, I told her a Blonde joke. One day, a blonde was driving down the highway when all of a sudden she was pulled over for speeding. The officer, a fellow blondie, walked up to the car and said “I need to see your driver’s license.” The driver rifled through her purse, looking at various items, and the officer finally said “it’s the rectangle, the one with your picture on it!”
The Blonde quickly handed the officer her compact mirror and said “Oh, here it is!”
The officer took the mirror, looked at it and replied “I didn’t realize you were a police officer too!”
My Blondie is still trying to figure that one out. Meanwhile, she is fueling enough one-liners to start her own Blonde Joke website. The other day we were driving in her car. It was my husband, me, Blondie, and her fiance. We were talking about babies and magic moments and her daddy said “I still remember the moment you were born. I counted every one of your fingers and toes.”
“Why?!” Blondie asked, puzzled…
“To make sure you had all ten of them” Daddy replied.
She paused for a moment, her eyebrows narrowed in confusion, and then she asked, “WELL, DID I??”
We all just looked over at her hands on the steering wheel, and then we wondered, WHY is she the one driving??
To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t pull over to count her toes…